Desire of tears—but this is sweet, most sweet!
(Oh, the young heart—the young heart in its Spring!)
That sits a little while at Sorrow’s feet
And tastes of pain as some forbidden thing,
That draught where all things sweet and bitter meet—
Desire of tears—ah me, but it is sweet!
Desire of joy and tears—ah, gifts of gold!
(Oh, the young heart—the young heart in its Spring!)
Once only are these treasures in our hold,
Once only is the rapture and the sting,