Song

Arthur Edward Drummond Bliss, Sir

Gone, gone again is Summer the lovely,

She that knew not where to hide

Is gone again like a jewelled fish from the hand,

Is lost on ev'ry side.

Mute, mute I make my way to the garden,

Thither where she last was seen;

The heavy foot of the frost is on the flags there

Where her light step has been.

Gone, gone again is Summer the lovely,

Gone again on ev'ry side,

Lost again, like a shining fish from the hand

Into the shadowy tide.