I Would Not Die in Spring Time |
Milton Moore*, 1850
I would not die in Springtime When all is bright around, And fair young flowers are peeping From out the silent ground, When life is on the water And joy upon the shore; For winter, gloomy winter Then reigns o'er us no more.
2. I would not die in Summer | 3. When breezes leave the mountain, Its balmy sweets all o'er To breathe around the fountain And fan our bowers no more. When Summer flowers are dying Within the lonely glen, And Autumn winds are sighing I would not perish then.
4. But let me die in Winter |