lundi 6 octobre 2008

Helen's Song

by Philip James Bailey (1816 – 1902)

The Rose is
Weeping for her love,
The nightingale.

And he is flying
Fast above,
To her he will
Not fail.

Already golden
Eve appears;
He wings his way along;

Ah! look he comes
To kiss her tears,
And soothe her
With his song.

We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart throbs.
He most lives who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.

Philip James Bailey

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