Surely ‘t is better, when summer is over To die when all fair things are fading away.

More from Thomas Haynes Bayly

• Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.
• Gayly the troubadour Touched his guitar.
• Gayly the troubadour Touched his guitar. Welcome me Home.
• Oh pilot, ‘t is a fearful night! There’s danger on the deep.
• Oh pilot, 't is a fearful night! There's danger on the deep. The Pilot.
• She wore a wreath of roses The first night that we met.