Lovely
night, I will never retrieve it,
And I
won"t see my sweet precious love.
And the
nightingale"s song, I won"t hear it,
Happy song
that it sang in the grove!
That sweet
night is now gone irrevocably,
You
can"t tell it: please come back and wait.
Autumn
weather has now set in locally,
With
perpetual rains, all is wet.
Fast asleep
in the grave is my sweetheart
Keeping
love, as before, in her heart.
And however
it tries, autumn blizzard
Cannot wake
her from sleep, flesh and blood.
So the
nightingale"s singing has ended,
As the
song-bird has taken to flight,
And I
can"t hear the song now, so splendid,
Which it
sang on that sweet chilly night.
Gone and
lost are the joyous emotions
That I had
in my life and conceived.
All I have
now is chill in my conscience.
What is gone
can"t be ever retrieved.
1911-1912
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