The nightingale lorn of his note in darkness brooding
Deeply and long,
'Two sweet months spake the heart to the heart. Alas! all's over,
O lost my song.'
One in the tree,
'Hush now! Let be:
The song at ending
Left my long tending
Over alsò.
Let be, let us go
Across the wan sea.
The little ones care not,
And I far
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