The Green Singer

written by


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ALL singers have shadows  
 That follow like fears,  
But I know a singer  
 Who never saw tears;  
A gay love—a green love—  
 Delightsome—divine:  
The Spring is that singer—  
 An old love of mine!  

All players have shadows,  
 And into the play  
Old sorrows will saunter—  
 Old sorrows will stay.  
But here is a player  
 Whose speech is divine:  
The Spring is that player—  
 An old love of mine!  

All singers grow heavy:  
 Their hours as they run  
Bite up all the blossoms,  
 Suck up all the sun;  
But I know a singer  
 Delightsome—divine:  
The gay love—the green love—  
 An old love of mine!

© John Shaw Neilson