It was not thus in that old time
When he sat with me ’neath the lime,
To watch the sunset from the sky.
‘Dear love, you’re looking tired,’ he said;
I, smiling at him, shook my head—
’Tis now we’re tired, my heart and I!
“So tired, so tired, my heart and I!
Though now none takes me in his arm
To fold me close and kiss me warm,
Till each quick breath end in a sigh