The Singer

   O beautiful Stars, when you see me go
     Hither and thither, in search of love,
   Do you think me faithless, who gleam and glow
     Serene and fixed in the blue above?
            O Stars, so golden, it is not so.

   But there is a garden I dare not see,
     There is a place where I fear to go,
   Since the charm and glory of life to me
     The brown earth covered there, long ago.
            O Stars, you saw it, you know, you know.

   Hither and thither I wandering go,
     With aimless haste and wearying fret;
   In a search for pleasure and love?  Not so,
     Seeking desperately to forget.
            You see so many, O Stars, you know.

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