Life is a frail moth flying Caught in the web of the years that pass.

Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?

Let this single hour atone For the theft of all of me

When I am dead, and over me bright April Shakes out her rain drenched hair, Tho you should lean above me broken hearted, I shall not care. For I shall have peace. As leafey trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough. And I shall be more silent and cold hearted Than you are now

There is a quiet at the heart of love, And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.

Stephen kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest, Robin’s lost in play, But the kiss in Colin’s eyes Haunts me night and day.

A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring.