Untitled
This is the bottle from which we both drank,
This is the glass in which my heart sank.
This is the day my lover did die,
This is the tear that my eye did cry.
Then was the time that her voice did shine,
Then was the way that her hand fell in mine.
Then was the night in which she did stay,
Then did I dream when she'd go away.
Now are the nights she watches me sleep,
Now that I know my soul hers to keep.
Now my new love does ask to my shame,
"Now that I'm here, would you love me the same?".
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