When news came from Rome
that art had lied
she wailed like a dog
for the day he died.
And she cut her hair
and threw it away
and mounted the stair
wishing night to day
and in those years that came
in the park she would walk
where he had heard the nightingale talk
news from Rome
that he was gone
all art with him
all art that shone
To the dome they carried him
her lament for a love
that had run its course
yet had never begun
And although their love
was never done,
A love so true
a love well run
that art had lied
she wailed like a dog
for the day he died.
And she cut her hair
and threw it away
and mounted the stair
wishing night to day
and in those years that came
in the park she would walk
where he had heard the nightingale talk
news from Rome
that he was gone
all art with him
all art that shone
To the dome they carried him
her lament for a love
that had run its course
yet had never begun
And although their love
was never done,
A love so true
a love well run
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