The nightingale sang, the lime was in flower,
The sun was laughing with hearty glee;
Your arms were about me, you kissed me that hour,
On your heaving bosom you cradled me.

The raven croaked, and the lime-leaves fell,
The sun's salute was a peevish light;
We bade to each other a frosty “Farewell,”
And you curtsied politely a curtsy polite.