From Spring Days To Winter （For Music）

　　In the glad springtime when leaves were green，

　　O merrily the throstle sings！

　　I sought， amid the tangled¹ sheen，

　　Love whom mine eyes had never seen，

　　O the glad dove has golden wings！

　　Between the blossoms red and white，

　　O merrily the throstle sings！

　　My love first came into my sight，

　　O perfect vision of delight，

　　O the glad dove has golden wings！

　　The yellow apples glowed like fire，

　　O merrily the throstle sings！

　　O Love too great for lip or lyre，

　　Blown rose of love and of desire，

　　O the glad dove has golden wings！

　　But now with snow the tree is grey，

　　Ah， sadly now the throstle sings！

　　My love is dead： ah！ well-a-day，

　　See at her silent feet I lay

　　A dove with broken wings！

　　Ah， Love！ ah， Love！ that thou wert slain² -

　　Fond Dove， fond Dove return again！