C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Marie Louise Van Vorst (1867–1936)

YOU sang me a song:

’Twas the close of the year—

Sing again!

I cannot remember the name

Or the words:

’Tis the same

We listen to hear

When the windows are open in spring,

And the air’s full of birds;

One calls from the branch some sweet thing,

And one sings on the wing

The refrain.

You sang me a song

My heart thrilled to hear.

The refrain

Has run like a filet of gold

Through the woof

Of the cold

Dark days of a year.

To-night there’s a year at its start,

All the birds are aloof,

Your eyes hold the sun for my part,

And the Spring’s in your heart—

Sing again!