Oscar Wilde




From Spring Days to Winter

                   for music

In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
   O merrily the throstle sings!
I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
   O the glad dove has golden wings!

Between the blossoms red and white,
   O merrily the throstle sings!
My love first came into my sight,
O perfect vision of delight,
   O the glad dove has golden wings!

The yellow apples glowed like fire,
   O merrily the throstle sings!
O Love too great for lip or lyre,
Blown rose of love and of desire,
    O the glad dove has golden wings!

But now with snow the tree is grey,
   Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
My love is dead: ah! well-a-day,
See at her silent feet I lay
   A dove with broken wings!
   Ah, Love! ah, Love! that thou wert slain--
Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!