WITHOUT AND WITHIN.
When the June roses budded and bloomed,
Flinging their sensuous fragrance high,
When the June sunsets goldened and gloomed,
Fading away in the amber sky,—
I stood mid the rustling trees below,
And these were the words my thought would spin,—
"Though green leaves shimmer and fair winds blow,
'T is cold, cold winter, my heart within."
Flinging their sensuous fragrance high,
When the June sunsets goldened and gloomed,
Fading away in the amber sky,—
I stood mid the rustling trees below,
And these were the words my thought would spin,—
"Though green leaves shimmer and fair winds blow,
'T is cold, cold winter, my heart within."
For far away in a stranger's land,
Where the Southern Cross gleamed high above,
Was the fond, fond heart and the helping hand,
And the tender eyes of mine own true love;
So m'd the passionate breath of the rose,
And clamor of birds the wild wood in,
I said to myself, in the orchard close,
"'T is cold, cold winter my heart within."
Where the Southern Cross gleamed high above,
Was the fond, fond heart and the helping hand,
And the tender eyes of mine own true love;
So m'd the passionate breath of the rose,
And clamor of birds the wild wood in,
I said to myself, in the orchard close,
"'T is cold, cold winter my heart within."
