From Spring Days to Winter (for Music)

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In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
O merrily the throstle sings!
I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
O the glad dove has golden wings!


Between the blossoms red and white,
O merrily the throstle sings!
My love first came into my sight,
O perfect vision of delight,
O the glad dove has golden wings!


The yellow apples glowed like fire.
O merrily the throstle sings!
O Love too great for lip or lyre,
Blown rose of love and of desire,
O the glad dove has golden wings!


But now with snow the tree is grey,
Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
My love is dead: ah ! well-a-day,
See at her silent feet I lay
A dove with broken wings!
Ah, Love ! ah, Love ! that thou wert slain---
Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!