We shall have our little day
Take my hand and travel still
Round and round the little way
Up and down the little hill

It is good to love again
Scan the renovated skies
Dip and drive the idling pen
Sweetly tint the paling lies

Trace the dripping, pierced heart
Speak the fair, insistent verse
Vow to God, and slip apart
Little better, Little worse

Would we need not know before
How shall end this prettiness
One of us must love the more
One of us shall love the less

Thus it is, and so it goes
We shall have our day, my dear
Where, unwilling, dies the rose
Buds the new, another year