I'd much prefer to say I don't know why,
But let's be honest that the whole world knows
I am a sucker for a teary eye
A soft half-turn, an introspective sigh
The moonlight on the water by the bay,
Beside the dark bank where the violets lie
Just visible in the reflected day
From which sad eyes must hopeless turn away
Only to find, in turning, that they see
The lover running up the shore to say
The time has come when all that's hoped shall be.
This weakness makes me argue in my mind
We shall be happy; I've already pined.
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