SONG
There are shadows in the sunshine,
Poison in the roses' breath,
Nature with her bridal garlands
Twines the faded flowers of death,
Tones of sorrow, low and plaintive,
Tremble through life's merry waltz,
Since the morn a warning angel
Whispered gently, "He is false."
Poison in the roses' breath,
Nature with her bridal garlands
Twines the faded flowers of death,
Tones of sorrow, low and plaintive,
Tremble through life's merry waltz,
Since the morn a warning angel
Whispered gently, "He is false."
Still my lips repeat the question,
"Tell me, is the message true,
When the sunshine still is golden,
Earth so glad and skies so blue;
Can it be that you are faithless?"
'Gainst the thought my soul revolts,
Yet it was an angel whispered,
Softly, gently, "He is false."
"Tell me, is the message true,
When the sunshine still is golden,
Earth so glad and skies so blue;
Can it be that you are faithless?"
'Gainst the thought my soul revolts,
Yet it was an angel whispered,
Softly, gently, "He is false."
Would he blight my youth's fair beauty
Just to feed the basest pride,
Pluck my love's half-opened rose-bud,
Soon, so soon to cast aside;
Teach my soul all men are base;
Love and honor—sculptured vaults—
All without made fair and lovely,
All within made dark and false?
Just to feed the basest pride,
Pluck my love's half-opened rose-bud,
Soon, so soon to cast aside;
Teach my soul all men are base;
Love and honor—sculptured vaults—
All without made fair and lovely,
All within made dark and false?
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