BACK flies my soul to other years, <br /> When thou that charming lay repeatest, <br />When smiles were only chased by tears, <br /> Yet sweeter far than smiles the sweetest. <br /> <br />Thy music ends, and where are they? <br /> Those golden times by memory cherish'd? <br />O, syren, sing no more that lay <br /> Or sing till I like them have perish'd! <br /> <br />1886.<br /><br />Joseph Skipsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-songstress-2/
