FROM COUNT TOLSTOI.
BELIEVE IT NOT.
Believe it not, when in excess of sorrowI murmur that my love for thee is o’er!When ebbs the tide, think not the sea’s a traitor—He will return and love the land once more.I still am pining, full of former passion,To thee, again, my freedom I’ll restore,E’en as the waves, with homeward murmur flowing,Roll back from far to the belovèd shore.
Believe it not, when in excess of sorrowI murmur that my love for thee is o’er!When ebbs the tide, think not the sea’s a traitor—He will return and love the land once more.I still am pining, full of former passion,To thee, again, my freedom I’ll restore,E’en as the waves, with homeward murmur flowing,Roll back from far to the belovèd shore.
Believe it not, when in excess of sorrowI murmur that my love for thee is o’er!When ebbs the tide, think not the sea’s a traitor—He will return and love the land once more.
Believe it not, when in excess of sorrow
I murmur that my love for thee is o’er!
When ebbs the tide, think not the sea’s a traitor—
He will return and love the land once more.
I still am pining, full of former passion,To thee, again, my freedom I’ll restore,E’en as the waves, with homeward murmur flowing,Roll back from far to the belovèd shore.
I still am pining, full of former passion,
To thee, again, my freedom I’ll restore,
E’en as the waves, with homeward murmur flowing,
Roll back from far to the belovèd shore.