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letra de william henry davies - a fleeting passion - richard mitchley

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thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not romp
let’s grimly kiss with bated breath;
as quietly and solemnly
as life when it is kissing death
now in the silence of the grave
my hand is squeezing that soft breast;
while thou dost in such passion lie
it mocks me with its look of rest

but when the morning comes at last
and we must part, our passions cold
you’ll think of some new feather, scarf
to buy with my small piece of gold;
and i’ll be dreaming of green lanes
where little things with beating hearts
hold shining eyes between the leaves
till men with horses pass, and carts

- richard mitchley

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