Many’s the time I’ve found your face
Fresh as a bunch of flowers in May,
Waiting for me at our own old place
At the end of the working day.
Many’s the time I’ve held your hand
On the shady seat in the People’s Park,
And blessed the blaring row of the band
And kissed you there in the dark.
Many’s the time you promised true,
Swore it with kisses, swore it with tears:
“I’ll marry no one without it’s you—
If we have to wait for years.”
And now it’s another chap in the Park
That holds your hand like I used to do;
And I kiss another girl in the dark,
And try to fancy it’s you!
WEDDING DAY
The enchanted hour,
The magic bower,
Where, crowned with roses,
Love love discloses.
“Kiss me, my lover;
Doubting is over,
Over is waiting;
Love lights our mating!”
“But roses wither,
Chill winds blow hither,
One thing all say, dear,
Love lives a day, dear!”
“Heed those old stories?
New glowing glories
Blot out those lies, love!
Look in my eyes, love!
“Ah, but the world knows—
Naught of the true rose;
Back the world slips, love!
Give me your lips, love!
“Even were their lies true,
Yet were you wise to
Swear, at Love’s portal,
The god’s immortal.”