|
SHE
In the white-flower’d hawthorn brake, | |
| Love, be merry for my sake; | |
| Twine the blossoms in my hair, | |
| Kiss me where I am most fair— | |
| Kiss me, love! for who knoweth | 5 |
| What thing cometh after death? | |
|
HE
Nay, the garlanded gold hair | |
| Hides thee where thou art most fair; | |
| Hides the rose-tinged hills of snow— | |
| Ah, sweet love, I have thee now! | 10 |
| Kiss me, love! for who knoweth | |
| What thing cometh after death? | |
|
SHE
Shall we weep for a dead day, | |
| Or set Sorrow in our way? | |
| Hidden by my golden hair, | 15 |
| Wilt thou weep that sweet days wear? | |
| Kiss me, love! for who knoweth | |
| What thing cometh after death? | |
|
HE
Weep, O Love, the days that flit, | |
| Now, while I can feel thy breath; | 20 |
| Then may I remember it | |
| Sad and old, and near my death. | |
| Kiss me, love! for who knoweth | |
| What thing cometh after death? | |
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