Sweet the nightingale was singing,
High on the topmost spray;
Sweet bird! keep ever ringing
Thy song with heart so gay.
Sweet bird! keep ever ringing
Thy song with heart so gay;
Thy heart was made for laughter,
My heart's in tears to-day.
Thy heart was made for laughter,
My heart's in tears to-day;
Tears for a fickle mistress,
Flown from its love away.
In tears for a fickle mistress,
Flown from its love away,
All for these faded roses
Which I refused in play.
All for these faded roses
Which I refused in play—
Would that each rose were growing
Still on the rose tree gay!
