The Mourner: When you are gone, the birds will stop their singing, When you are dead, no sun will ever rise. No more, no more the joyful days upspringing shall bless these eyes. When you are in your grave, the flowers blowing shall hang their heads and sicken in their grove. Beauty will fade and wither at your going, oh my own love. The Dying One: Ah, say not so, another love will cheer you. The sun will shine as bright tomorrow morn. The birds will sing, though I no longer near you must lie forlorn. When I am in my grave, the flowers blowing shall make you garlands twenty times as sweet. Beauty will live, though I must sleep unknowing beneath thy feet.
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View text with all available footnotesNote: some recordings leave out the words of the Mourner. Some versions also retain the original's use of "thee" instead of "you".
Text Authorship:
- by Margaret Kennedy (1896 - 1967) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
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Researcher for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2005-10-12
Line count: 30
Word count: 128