Rest on mine your head.
"Am I happy?" ask the fire
When it bursts its bounds and thrills
Some mad hours as it wills
If those hours tire.
He had gold. As for the rest—
Well you know how they were set,
Saying that I must forget
And 'twas for the best.
Rest on mine your head.
"Am I happy?" ask the fire
When it bursts its bounds and thrills
Some mad hours as it wills
If those hours tire.
He had gold. As for the rest—
Well you know how they were set,
Saying that I must forget
And 'twas for the best.