The days are all such heavy days
When I am far from thee -
I wonder how the bird can sing,
Or search the blue with joyous wing
Or love his liberty
When I am far from thee.

O Love, could I but take the hours
That once I spent with thee,
And coin them all in minted gold,
What should I purchase that would hold
Their worth in joy to me?
Ah, Love - another hour with thee!