on hearing the last rose of summer - paul hindemith lyrics
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that strain again? it seems to tell
of something like a joy departed;
i love its mourning accents well
like voice of one, ah! broken*hearted
that note that pensive dies away
and can each answering thrill awaken
it sadly, wildly, seems to say
thy meek heart mourns its truth forsaken
or there was one who never more
shall meet thee with the looks of gladness
when all of happier life was o’er
when first began thy night of sadness
sweet mourner, cease that melting strain
too well it suits the grave’s cold slumbers;
too well the heart that loved in vain
breathes, lives, and weeps in those wild numbers
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