DREAM OF BYGONES

The peonies are in bloom, Their perfume I adore, Naught keeps me from dreaming Of you for evermore. The night is bright, The dewdrops fall, The night birds sing With a distant call. My heart then beats In throbbing pain, My eyes in tears, My soul is strained. Come tell me, dear, If thy love’s dead, Come raise me then From sorrow’s bed.