The Spring will come when the year turns,
   As if no Winter had been,
But what shall I do with a locked heart
   That lets no new year in?

The birds will go when the Fall goes,
   The leaves will fade in the field,
But what shall I do with an old love
   Will neither die nor yield?

Oh! youth will turn as the world turns,
   And dim grow laughter and pain,
But how shall I hide from an old dream
   I never may dream again?