TWO MOURNERS
My golden robin built his nest
Upon a shady linden tree,
Then sought afar o'er wood and lea
And found the bird he loved the best.
Upon a shady linden tree,
Then sought afar o'er wood and lea
And found the bird he loved the best.
I built a cottage for my guest,
A little maid who cared for me,
And there we lived so happily,
Her golden head upon my breast.
A little maid who cared for me,
And there we lived so happily,
Her golden head upon my breast.
The wind grew wroth one summer night
And tost the nestlings from the tree,
And wrecked my cottage by the sea,
And crushed the flower of my delight;—
Another nest fronts wind and rain,
But I shall never build again.
And tost the nestlings from the tree,
And wrecked my cottage by the sea,
And crushed the flower of my delight;—
Another nest fronts wind and rain,
But I shall never build again.
TWO WINDS
The north wind breathes his bitter stinging breath,
And all the little flowers fall down in death;
The south wind whispers over field and plain,
And every tender bud comes back again.
And all the little flowers fall down in death;
The south wind whispers over field and plain,
And every tender bud comes back again.
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