Song Butterfly, butterfly, where are yo… ‘Over the roses into the sky.’ Butterfly, butterfly, there is no… When you’ll come back again, so go…

There are two happy birds in the t… There are two happy stars in the s… There are two happy waves in the s… There are two happy clouds driftin… There are two happy mortals, since…

In the meadows by the Avon, Underneath the slope of Bredon, There we often used to wander, My girl and I. All around the thrushes singing.

I saw a row of hollyhocks, Demure and stately-tall, They peep’d above a hedge of box, Like maidens in brocaded frocks, Who nodded one and all.

What is the end of all sweet thing… Of these dawns and twilights and g… Of the rose that climbs, and the s… Of the breeze that sighs, and the… Dust and ashes and death?

‘ Swift away, swift away,’ Sang the fickle swallow, Oh! the fickle swallow, Flying to the sun! ‘Come, my little brothers,

Crush these voluptuous grapes betw… Your small, strong teeth! and let… Be offered in a sacrificial rain Of sun-warmed essence; while I tw… Of all their leaves, and place it…

Schwartz Wald The heat of the mid-day has smitte… The mountains are closing their ey… The boulders stand stark, where th… For Earth in her passion is wholl…

Time hangs suspended 'mid the perf… With limpid wings, o’er which the… Gleams like a tear, within the ten… Desirous eyes of love-lorn Destin… The earth is dumb, the scents of m…

Can nothing last? No deep, intense emotion? Have all things passed, Can nothing last? ‘Yes,’ sighs the wind,

When I the hills of Malvern see, There comes a sadness over me. The reason why, I cannot tell, Perhaps I love those hills too we… But this I know, when I behold

And so we closed the book, wherein… How many words of ecstasy and pain… How oft repeated passion’s deep re… Like ebb and flow of tide, whose e… Upon the hearing of our listening…

Why kinder to the breeze than unto… For oft you let him play within yo… Blow its soft curls about, and fin… The while he whispers low and tend… Into your ear; and yet how cold is…

The noontide showers have drifted… The sunset’s on the hill, The lights be gleaming through the… Adown by Clincher’s Mill. It’s such a pretty evening, maid.

High above a waveless sea, On the hills of long ago. There you lived awhile with me. And we loved—I know. For your hair I made a crown,