“THE OLD, OLD STORY.”
Come into the garden sweet Lilith
When the clock in the tower strikes nine.
When the moon by the hill tops is hidden,
For thine eyes e’er the moonbeams outshine.
Come into the garden my loved one,
While the nightingales sing in the trees.
All th’ air is filled with the fragrance
That the flowers send forth to the breeze.
Come into the garden and meet me
Beneath the old oak on the lawn.
To thee I will tell the same story
That was told at the world’s first dawn.
Come into the garden sweet Lilith,
To thee, I’d anew my vows plight.
Again I would speak to thee love words,
Again by the moon’s waning light.
Come into the garden my Lilith,
The meadow lark chants his love song.
E’en the trees are whispering sweet love notes,
For they to each other belong.
Come into the garden sweet Lilith,
Where the fire-flies seem dancing around.
They are plighting their love to each other,
Their love smiles light up all the ground.
Come into the garden sweet Lilith,
O listen, sweetheart, to my plea.
The trees, and the birds, and the fire-flies
Tell their love; then why should not we?
My heart is with love overflowing,
I would clasp thee in Love’s close embrace.
If parted from thee my sweet Lilith,
Thy love I could never efface.