How sweet and sad was the bird
I heard
As I stood at my open window.

When I go
To the pub to meet my friends,
We will pretend
That there is no end,
Or at least hide for a while
In the smile
Produced by drink,
Which makes men think
That all,
This will last.

But, I shall recollect the bird’s call,
As I stood at my open window
And know
That all
That sings, must pass.