Too soon so fair, fair lilies
Too soon so fair, fair lilies;
To bloom is then to wane;
The folded bud has still
Tomorrow at its will;
Blown flowers can never blow again.
Too soon so bright, bright noontide;
The sun that now is high
Will henceforth only sink
Towards the western brink;
Day that's at prime begins to die.
Too soon so rich, ripe summer,
For autumn tracks thee fast;
Lo, death-marks on the leaf!
Sweet summer, and my grief;
For summer come is summer past.
Too soon, too soon, lost summer;
Some hours and thou art o'er.
Ah! death is part of birth:
Summer leaves not the earth,
But last year's summer lives no more.
About the headline (FAQ)
Submitted by Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Text added to the website: 2012-04-14 00:00:00.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:52
Line count: 20
Word count: 111
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