I sigh that kiss you,For I must ownThat I shall miss youWhen you have grown.
I sigh that kiss you, For I must own That I shall miss you When you have grown.
Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die
What shall I do for pretty girlsNow my old bawd is dead?
Speak, speak, for underneath the cover thereThe sand is running from the upper glass,And when the last grain's through, I shall be lost.
Speak, speak, for underneath the cover there The sand is running from the upper glass, And when the last grain's through, I shall be lost.
Half close your eyelids, loosen your hair,And dream about the great and their pride;They have spoken against you everywhere,But weigh this song with the great and their pride;I made it out of a mouthful of air,Their children's children shall say they have lied.