Where is the sunshine gone? Where is the gold?
It was a lovely day! ‘Tis cold and dead;
No light, no warmth, no cheer!—Oh, presently
Those two will take the summer road to Vannes!
Ha! does he think that I will meekly stay
Within this convent close, will kneel and pray,
Day in, day out, for all true lovers’ weal?
What is there now to do?—O Jealousy!
I dream of Paimpont Wood in June! I’ll dream
Of sunlit peaks, of roses named Clarice;