Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.
It is a flaw In happiness to see beyond our bourn, - It forces us in summer skies to mourn, It spoils the singing of the nightingale.
Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
Life is but a day; A fragile dewdrop on its perilous way From a tree's summit.
I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever