Welling and swelling I bear in the tide

Impressions that maybe another

Impressions that maybe another

art is lengthy and Time is fleeting

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide

inform me now not in mournful numbers

Breaking into smithereens

How their blooming hopes and dreams were faded away

And soonest our best men with thee do go

Can I rise above the plain

Next to the lake underneath the trees

To which even the elements shed tears

To which even the elements shed tears

And now why she is quite dumb to say

What guys or divine beings are those What women loth

They stretched in neverending line

What the hand dare seize the hearth

What's more, summer's rent hath very short a date

men themselves have questioned

For consistently funneling melodies for ever new