38
From the hour my dearest fled
All my trick of laughter's dead;
Jests fly round from many a bore,
But I laugh no more, no more.
From the hour she left me lone
All my power of weeping's gone;
Breaks my heart with anguish sore,
But I weep no more, no more.
All my trick of laughter's dead;
Jests fly round from many a bore,
But I laugh no more, no more.
From the hour she left me lone
All my power of weeping's gone;
Breaks my heart with anguish sore,
But I weep no more, no more.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.