My silks and fine array,My smiles and languished air,By love are driv'n away;And mournful lean DespairBrings me yew to deck my grave:Such end true lovers have.
Time was awayand somewhere else.
Curse away!And let me tell thee, Beauseant, a wise proverbThe Arabs have,—"Curses are like young chickens,And still come home to roost."edward bulwer-lytton
If thou would'st have me sing and playAs once I play'd and sung,First take this time-worn lute away,And bring one freshly strung.thomas moore