The nightingale sang, the lime was in flower

The nightingale sang, the lime was in flower,

The sun was laughing with hearty glee;

Your arms were about me, you kissed me that hour,

On your heaving bosom you cradled me.

The raven croaked, and the lime-leaves fell,

The sun's salute was a peevish light;

We bade to each other a frosty "Farewell,"

And you curtsied politely a curtsy polite.