You ask me why I’m lonely now
And why I sing no more;
And why the lute lies broke and still
And why my weary eye lids fill
With tear drops swimming o’er!
O close beside the ruined mill
The clods are red and new
Ah There is a grave on yonder hill
There is a form all cold and still,
Where once the roses, the roses grew,
Where once the roses, the roses grew.
O chide me not that thus I weep,
O ask me not to sing;
O it would be a mournful lay
And she is sleeping ‘mid the clay
I have no heart to sing.
I fain would smile as first I smiled
And sing as wont of yore,
Ah! But darkness sits upon the skies
Low on my heart a sorrow lies,
And I can sin, I can sing no more,
And I can sing, I can sing no more.
Centemeri, Pietro, "You Ask Me Why I’m Lonely Now" (1857). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1246.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.