Love and Tears
Sweetheart, 'twas sunshine, 'twas Summer — 'twas June!
The meadows were romping, the sky was at noon,
And we were two children together below it.
Ah, dear! could we ever be gladder and know it?
Then, dearest, came days when the Summer was dead;
The gaunt woodland cried to the gray overhead;
And who could have known, in young Maytime of weather,
Love's tenderest depth lies in mourning together?
The meadows were romping, the sky was at noon,
And we were two children together below it.
Ah, dear! could we ever be gladder and know it?
Then, dearest, came days when the Summer was dead;
The gaunt woodland cried to the gray overhead;
And who could have known, in young Maytime of weather,
Love's tenderest depth lies in mourning together?
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