Song
II
Thyrsis
,
when
we
parted
,
swore
Ere
the
spring
he
would
return
.
Ah
,
what
means
yon
violet
flower
,
And
the
buds
that
deck
the
thorn
?
'Twas
the
lark
that
upward
sprung
!
'Twas
the
nightingale
that
sung
!
Idle
notes
,
untimely
green
,
Why
such
unavailing
haste
?
Western
gales
and
skies
serene
Prove
not
always
winter
past
.
Cease
my
doubts
,
my
fears
to
move
;
Spare
the
honour
of
my
love
.