Spleen

Lyrics

Around were all the roses red The ivy all around was black Dear, so thou only move thine head Shall all mine old despairs awake! Too blue, too tender was the sky The air too soft, too green the sea Always I fear, I know not why Some lamentable flight from thee I am so tired of holly-sprays And weary of the bright box-tree Of all the endless country ways; Of everything alas! save thee