I cannot tell you now;
The wind's drive and whirl about,
blow me along no longer,
and the wind whispers at last;
Maybe I'll tell you then ---- Some other time.
When the roses flash to the sunset;
Reels to the rack and twist,
And the rose is a red bygone;
When the face I love is going,
and the gate to the end shall close,
and it's no use to beckon or say "So long";
Maybe I'll tell you then ---- Some other time.
I never knew any more beautiful than you;
I traced for you with-in my thoughts,
I have broken down under the wind,
and into the roses looking for you.
I shall never find any ---- Greater than you.
