O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!
We watch'd her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro.
No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.
Coquetry is the champagne of love.
It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm further off from heaven Than when I was a boy.