For works with similar titles, see Ritornello.
Ritornello
Against the wide clear windows of your mind
My songs continually rush and beat
Like circling swallows in the summer days,
And with bound eyes, for Love has made them blind,
They sing in darkness of your beauty, Sweet,
And chant in shadow your perpetual praise.
My songs continually rush and beat
Like circling swallows in the summer days,
And with bound eyes, for Love has made them blind,
They sing in darkness of your beauty, Sweet,
And chant in shadow your perpetual praise.
And yet it is not love that makes them sad,
But Sorrow that stands ever by Delight
With bruised white blossoms in her weary hands,
Love tells her all his secrets mad and glad,
And she, with languid lips and eyes like night,
Listens . . . and whispers back and understands.
But Sorrow that stands ever by Delight
With bruised white blossoms in her weary hands,
Love tells her all his secrets mad and glad,
And she, with languid lips and eyes like night,
Listens . . . and whispers back and understands.
Oh, friend gone far away, my restless songs
Crave ever for the hour of your return.
At Hope's dim doors their silent wings flash white,
And when bright Day puts off earth's crown of wrongs
And darkness draws Life dreamward, still they yearn
Toward you in Sleep's fairy-lands all night.
Crave ever for the hour of your return.
At Hope's dim doors their silent wings flash white,
And when bright Day puts off earth's crown of wrongs
And darkness draws Life dreamward, still they yearn
Toward you in Sleep's fairy-lands all night.