I sometimes think that never blows so redDon MurrayI sometimes think that never blows so redThe Rose as where some buried Caesar bled,That every Hyacinth the Garden wearsDropt in her lap from some once lovely head.
← LibraryDon Murray · songI sometimes think that never blows so redI sometimes think that never blows so red by Don Murray with libretto, IPA, translation, and study tools.Audio diction — free with sign-inTTS in 14 languages, loop passages, slow down lines.Sign in with GoogleSongI sometimes think that never blows so redDon MurrayIˈaɪsometimessˈʌmtaɪmzthinkθˈɪŋkthatðˈætnevernˈɛvɐblowsblˈəʊzsosˈəʊredɹˈɛdTheðəRoseɹəʊzasəzwherewˈeəsomesˈʌmburiedbˈɛɹɪdCaesarsˈiːzɐbledblˈɛd,ThatðˈæteveryˈɛvɹiHyacinthhˈaɪɐsˌɪnθtheðəGardenɡˈɑːdənwearswˈeəzDroptdɹɒpinˈɪnherhˈɜːlaplˈæpfromfɹˈɒmsomesˈʌmoncewˈɒnslovelylˈʌvliheadhˈɛd.