Loneliness
The candle gave good augury last night.
All day I've waited by the garden gate,
My arms about the child, and now it's late
And still he has not ridden into sight.
No fate is good for me save his return,
The babe is a plum-garland for his heart.
It cannot be the Gods will us to part—
To-night again the candle I must burn.
All day I've waited by the garden gate,
My arms about the child, and now it's late
And still he has not ridden into sight.
No fate is good for me save his return,
The babe is a plum-garland for his heart.
It cannot be the Gods will us to part—
To-night again the candle I must burn.
O empty street, I do not think you lead
To the dear lord for whom my poor heart grieves.
The sky has walled you up like an old tomb
And in the dark there's dew upon my sleeves.
To the dear lord for whom my poor heart grieves.
The sky has walled you up like an old tomb
And in the dark there's dew upon my sleeves.
