For beauty with sorrow Is a burden hard to be borne: The evening light on the foam, and the swans, there; That music, remote, forlorn.

Wonderful lovely there she sat, Singing the night away, All in the solitudinous sea Of that there lonely bay.

Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Some one came knocking, I'm sure-sure-sure.

Bang! Now the animal Is dead and dumb and done. Nevermore to peep again, creep again, leap again, Eat or sleep or drink again, oh, what fun!