</></Oh such bitter sweet regret- <br />Comes the breaking of dawn... <br />'Tis much too soon, my darling <br />For you shall soon be gone; <br />The Lark 'tis surely lying to us- <br />How dare he herald in the morn? <br />Parting 'tis but bittersweet, my darling <br />Alas, a new sorrow, 'tis born; <br /> <br /> <br />Il n'est mie jors <br />Saverose au corps gent <br />Si me consent Dieus <br />L'aloete nos ment <br /> <br /> <br />It is not daylight <br />O sweet one with the gentle body <br />So God help me <br />The Lark lies to us <br /> <br />-Provencal. twelfth or thirteenth century <br /> <br />An Aubade is a Morning Song <br /> <br />By: Theodora Onken <br />November 5,2011> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Remembering Al and Paul Schmidt <br />And of course: David P.<br /><br />Theodora (Theo) Onken<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-aubade/
