Cécile Chaminade
2 voix · Voice, Piano
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Arid Winter has sought in vain Of our loves the fondness to lessen. The new year A- prilward doth hasten And finds me at your feet again. May your Beauty no wonderment That so move loyal my vows yet cling, My la- dy, ’tis the time of Spring, It was in Autumn that we fell in love. Then no more roses met our eyes, And e’er earlier darken'd the even, The swallows ’neath our gloomy heaven Flew away to more genial skies. The vineyards all their pow’r did And our prove, hearts to heaven took wing, My lady, 'tis the time of Spring, Will as in Au- tumn you return my love? Anew the bush, wea ry of snow, Rejoices in roses fullblooming; A joyous knell, stern Winter dooming Is ringing on the bluebells now. The skies their gray garb do re Andmove gay apparel o’er them fling, My lady, ’tis the time of Spring, More than in Autumn let us learn to love!
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