Hark! Thy mother’s voice is calling:
Dearest maiden, I must go.
Part we must, dear maid, in sorrow!
Day is surely doomed to die.
Ah, but we shall find to-morrow
Countless joys we let go by,
Countless words we uttered not,
Hours we robbed of wasted chances,
Eyes we balked of mutual glances,
Countless kisses we forgot.