 | Ailes d'Alouette |  |
64
AVGVST
The
year has reached the swooning-day
Of perfected desire,
The crowning of the hopes of May,
The height that hath no higher.
Of perfected desire,
The crowning of the hopes of May,
The height that hath no higher.
Her myriad children round her throng,
Flower and bird and bee.
Ah, nightingale! why fails thy song?
Is joy for all but thee?
Flower and bird and bee.
Ah, nightingale! why fails thy song?
Is joy for all but thee?
| Ailes d'Alouette | |