The stars know a secret
They do not tell;
And morn brings a message
Hidden well.
There ’s a blush on the apple,
A tint on the wing,
And the bright wind whistles,
And the pulses sting.
Perish dark memories!
...
The stars know a secret There ’s a blush on the apple, Perish dark memories! |
Le temps, maître de tout, ternit ce paysage, |
Such is the Force of Happiness — |