Song
I have lost my singing-voice;
My heyday's over.
No more I lilt my cares and joys,
But keep them under cover.
My heyday's gone:
I sit and look on:
Life rushes by with a sob and a moan.
Wherefore should I care to tell
The pang that rends me?
If it leave me, all is well;
And if it last, it ends me.
The tears that rise
And prick in mine eyes
Drop for a world full of hunger and sighs.
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