Classic Poem

The birds were all a-singing,
The morning skies were red,
And sweet was our communion,
And pleasant words we said;
How close we kept together,
With never once a frown, —
But look, I pray you, brother,
The sun is going down!

Our path, that at the morning,
Was as a rosy line,
Through greenest meadows winding,
Grows shorter all the time;
And now my eyes are brimming,
To see the shadows fall,
For you and I are walking,
With no kind words at all.

O Sun, stand still in Heaven!
Be not so swift to go
Adown your path of glory;
This friend that loved me so
Must smile once more upon me,
And I once more on him,
Before the darkness gathers,
And all the day is dim.

No matter whose the blame was;
So fast the shadows fall,
There's no time left for talking,
I'll gladly take it all;
For all the pride and anger,
Die out within my breast,
Now while the sun is sinking,
So low adown the west.

The birds were all a-singing,
The morning skies were red,
And sweet was our communion,
And pleasant words we said;
How close we kept together,
With never once a frown, —
But look, I pray you, brother,
The sun is going down!

Our path, that at the morning,
Was as a rosy line,
Through greenest meadows winding,
Grows shorter all the time;
And now my eyes are brimming,
To see the shadows fall,
For you and I are walking,
With no kind words at all.

O Sun, stand still in Heaven!
Be not so swift to go
Adown your path of glory;
This friend that loved me so
Must smile once more upon me,
And I once more on him,
Before the darkness gathers,
And all the day is dim.

No matter whose the blame was;
So fast the shadows fall,
There's no time left for talking,
I'll gladly take it all;
For all the pride and anger,
Die out within my breast,
Now while the sun is sinking,
So low adown the west.