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34; Songs That Every Child Should Know
I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be;
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee. |
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Farewell |
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Copyright, G. Schirmer.
Farewell again!
Farewell again! Long as thou lovest me I will be true to thee
Farewell again!
Parting is pain! |
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