Through the lee-lang sunny day!
When young loves bud and old loves bloom—
When the warm earth bans all shade of gloom,
And bees hum summerly.
I woo thine ears to a kindly tale,
And what shall the story be?
I will tell thee dearest bonds are frail,
And that stars and flowers flee.
I will tell thee a tale of woful wings
That rive from the soul its precious things,