Of her lovely compassion,
Faded and gone away;
left alone blooming on without hope,
But, her home is on the deep.
Like the stormy winds that blew last night;
With signs and sounds from the light of love,
Like those evening bells.
Of a tale that this love tells!
With those joyous hours with her alone.
Box, fox, ox!
Like a man from the valley of bliss;
Thst sweet time,
That sweet thing;
Hearing the sweet evening bells,
As her lovely compassion faded away.
Oh! ! To see it at sunset;
of love-lighted eyes without a clue;
Oh! ! To see her st sunset;
Like a dead body within the tomb;
Oh! ! This life;
With the woes of life and the woes of a lover,
Like the echoes of the waterfalls.
With the sadness of the moonlight;
Like a bride full of blushes,
And, like young aspen-trees.