Tears, Idle Tears
Tears, idle tears. I know not what they mean.
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more
Sad and strange as in the dark summer dawns
The earlist pipe of half-awaken’d birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
So sad, so strange, the days that no more
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more
Sad and strange as in the dark summer dawns
The earlist pipe of half-awaken’d birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
So sad, so strange, the days that no more
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