Her Love-Birds

Lyrics

When I looked up at my love-birds         That Sunday afternoon,         There was in their tiny tune A dying fetch like broken words, When I looked up at my love-birds         That Sunday afternoon. When he, too, scanned the love-birds         On entering there that day,         'Twas as if he had nought to say Of his long journey citywards, When he, too, scanned the love-birds,         On entering there that day. And billed and billed the love-birds,         As 'twere in fond despair         At the stress of silence where Had once been tones in tenor thirds, And billed and billed the love-birds         As 'twere in fond despair. O, his speech that chilled the love-birds,         And smote like death on me,         As I learnt what was to be, And knew my life was broke in sherds! O, his speech that chilled the love-birds,         And smote like death on me!