5So sweet love seemed that April morn,When first we kissed beside the thorn,So strangely sweet, it was not strangeWe thought that love could never change.But I can tell—let truth be told—That love will change in growing old;Though day by day is nought to see,So delicate his motions be.And in the end ’twill come to passQuite to forget what once he was,Nor even in fancy to recallThe pleasure that was all in all.His little spring, that sweet we found,So deep in summer floods is drowned,I wonder, bathed in joy complete,How love so young could be so sweet.
5So sweet love seemed that April morn,When first we kissed beside the thorn,So strangely sweet, it was not strangeWe thought that love could never change.But I can tell—let truth be told—That love will change in growing old;Though day by day is nought to see,So delicate his motions be.And in the end ’twill come to passQuite to forget what once he was,Nor even in fancy to recallThe pleasure that was all in all.His little spring, that sweet we found,So deep in summer floods is drowned,I wonder, bathed in joy complete,How love so young could be so sweet.
So sweet love seemed that April morn,When first we kissed beside the thorn,So strangely sweet, it was not strangeWe thought that love could never change.But I can tell—let truth be told—That love will change in growing old;Though day by day is nought to see,So delicate his motions be.And in the end ’twill come to passQuite to forget what once he was,Nor even in fancy to recallThe pleasure that was all in all.His little spring, that sweet we found,So deep in summer floods is drowned,I wonder, bathed in joy complete,How love so young could be so sweet.
So sweet love seemed that April morn,When first we kissed beside the thorn,So strangely sweet, it was not strangeWe thought that love could never change.But I can tell—let truth be told—That love will change in growing old;Though day by day is nought to see,So delicate his motions be.And in the end ’twill come to passQuite to forget what once he was,Nor even in fancy to recallThe pleasure that was all in all.His little spring, that sweet we found,So deep in summer floods is drowned,I wonder, bathed in joy complete,How love so young could be so sweet.
So sweet love seemed that April morn,When first we kissed beside the thorn,So strangely sweet, it was not strangeWe thought that love could never change.
So sweet love seemed that April morn,
When first we kissed beside the thorn,
So strangely sweet, it was not strange
We thought that love could never change.
But I can tell—let truth be told—That love will change in growing old;Though day by day is nought to see,So delicate his motions be.
But I can tell—let truth be told—
That love will change in growing old;
Though day by day is nought to see,
So delicate his motions be.
And in the end ’twill come to passQuite to forget what once he was,Nor even in fancy to recallThe pleasure that was all in all.
And in the end ’twill come to pass
Quite to forget what once he was,
Nor even in fancy to recall
The pleasure that was all in all.
His little spring, that sweet we found,So deep in summer floods is drowned,I wonder, bathed in joy complete,How love so young could be so sweet.
His little spring, that sweet we found,
So deep in summer floods is drowned,
I wonder, bathed in joy complete,
How love so young could be so sweet.