Tristan And Isolde

Who will hear of love desolate?
In which some number more than two lovers met
But for two it was named
And though it is old
They grow young again
Each time it is told

For what love is more fierce than that of the young?
Why, it is for them that love songs are sung
For though they are quickest
To fall and to break
Their hearts are the true homes
Of worship and ache

And they say, "Yes it is sad to know I am happiest alone
But it is when I am under your hand I know happiness is not grand"

Her voice was like music with a dying fall
A delicate instrument to be played gently or not at all
But for him she suffered
And gladly at that
They made sweet songs
Sweet songs

They sang, "Yes it is sad to know I am happiest alone
But it is when I am under your hand I know happiness is not grand"

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