Spring and Autumn
Le printemps et l'automne
Two seasons mark out life for those
Who know life's pleasant uses:
For them will Spring its roses bring —
Autumn its goodly juices
Hearts waken up, as days grow long;
They're short — new wine we try:
Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye!
'T were better these two charming tastes
To intermix, I'm thinking —
But my health's such, I fear too much
Of loving or of drinking
And Prudence warns me to my days
This system to apply —
Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye!
'T was merry May when first I saw,
And bowed before Rosette:
From her caprice I got no peace;
Six months with that coquette!
To pay her out, at length I hailed
October drawing nigh —
Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye!
I take, throw off, re-take Adele,
Quite free and unconcerned:
" I must away, " quoth she, one day —
'T was long ere she returned.
'Mid trellised vines she heard me sing —
" Time runs his round, " sang I —
" Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye! "
But ah! there's one enchantress still,
Who varies all at pleasure:
With love the gipsy makes me tipsy —
With wine she holds the measure
She changed at will my days' routine —
To sad confusion brought 'em;
She makes me cling to wine, in Spring —
And stick to Love, in Autumn
Two seasons mark out life for those
Who know life's pleasant uses:
For them will Spring its roses bring —
Autumn its goodly juices
Hearts waken up, as days grow long;
They're short — new wine we try:
Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye!
'T were better these two charming tastes
To intermix, I'm thinking —
But my health's such, I fear too much
Of loving or of drinking
And Prudence warns me to my days
This system to apply —
Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye!
'T was merry May when first I saw,
And bowed before Rosette:
From her caprice I got no peace;
Six months with that coquette!
To pay her out, at length I hailed
October drawing nigh —
Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye!
I take, throw off, re-take Adele,
Quite free and unconcerned:
" I must away, " quoth she, one day —
'T was long ere she returned.
'Mid trellised vines she heard me sing —
" Time runs his round, " sang I —
" Adieu, the bottle, in the Spring —
In Autumn, Love, good-bye! "
But ah! there's one enchantress still,
Who varies all at pleasure:
With love the gipsy makes me tipsy —
With wine she holds the measure
She changed at will my days' routine —
To sad confusion brought 'em;
She makes me cling to wine, in Spring —
And stick to Love, in Autumn
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