| When first my way to fair I took |
|
|
| When summer's end is nighing |
|
|
| The Rainy Pleiads wester |
|
|
| The Farms of home lie lost in even |
|
|
| Tarry, delight, so seldom met |
|
|
| How clear, how lovely bright |
|
|
| Bells in tower at evening toll |
|
|
| Like mine, the veins of these that slumber |
|
|
| Yon flakes that fret the eastern sky |
|
|
| Illic Jacet |
|
|