The early autumn night descends; the storm Rages outdoors; within my room I sit, And listen to wild September's equinox. Then from our parlor, where my sister sings, Music comes to my ears. What summer night Was it, long since, when first I heard that song? Tears fill my eyes. The voice which caroled once Those notes, now sings no more for me; the lips Which once I kissed, another kisses now. |