Thus might Heaven me discard.
I am thinking of a morning
That wrung from my heart a sigh,
When I kissed warm lips that trembled,
With a tear-drop in my eye;
While I closed our cottage windows
And pronounced the word—good-bye.
Thus might Heaven me discard.
I am thinking of a morning
That wrung from my heart a sigh,
When I kissed warm lips that trembled,
With a tear-drop in my eye;
While I closed our cottage windows
And pronounced the word—good-bye.