Again I Sing my Songs

Once again my songs I sing thee,         Now the spell is broken;     Brothers, yet again I bring thee         Songs of love the token.     Of my joy and of my sorrow         Gladly, sadly bringing;--     Summer not a song would borrow--         Winter sets me singing.     O when life turns sad and lonely,         When our joys are dead;     When are heard the ravens only         In the trees o'erhead;     When the stormwind on the bowers         Wreaks its wicked will,     When the frost paints lying flowers,         How should I be still?     When the clouds are low descending,         And the sun is drowned;     When the winter knows no ending,         And the cold is crowned;     When with evil gloom oppressed         Lie the ruins bare;     When a sigh escapes the breast,         Takes us unaware;     When the snow-wrapped mountain dreams         Of its summer gladness,     When the wood is stripped and seems         Full of care and sadness;     When the songs are growing still         As in Death's repose,     And the heart is growing chill,         And the eyelids close;     Then, O then I can but sing         For I dream her coming--     May, sweet May! I see her bring         Buds and wild-bee humming!     Through the silence heart-appalling,         As I stand and listen,     I can hear her song-birds calling,         See her green leaves glisten!     Thus again my songs I sing thee,         Now the spell is broken;     Brothers, yet again I bring thee         Of my love the token.     Of my joy and of my sorrow         Gladly, sadly bringing,--     Summer not a song would borrow!--     Winter sets me singing.