|
[ti:] |
|
[ar:] |
|
[al:] |
| [00:05.07] |
I sang that song on Sunday, |
| [00:08.99] |
To witch an idle while, |
| [00:13.42] |
I sang that song on Monday, |
| [00:17.20] |
As fittest to beguile; |
| [00:21.24] |
I sang it as the year outwore, |
| [00:25.36] |
And the new slid in; |
| [00:29.85] |
I thought not what might shape before |
| [00:33.72] |
Another would begin. |
| [00:38.70] |
|
| [00:42.58] |
I sang that song in summer, |
| [00:46.41] |
All unforeknowingly, |
| [00:50.08] |
To him as a new-comer |
| [00:53.70] |
From regions strange to me: |
| [00:57.73] |
I sang it when in afteryears |
| [01:01.77] |
The shades stretched out, |
| [01:05.95] |
And paths were faint; and flocking fears |
| [01:10.43] |
Brought cup-eyed care and doubt. |
| [01:15.11] |
|
| [01:22.32] |
Sings he that song on Sundays |
| [01:25.55] |
In some dim land afar, |
| [01:29.82] |
On Saturdays, or Mondays, |
| [01:33.86] |
As when the evening star |
| [01:37.33] |
Glimpsed in upon his bending face |
| [01:42.32] |
And my hanging hair, |
| [01:50.05] |
And time untouched me with a trace |
| [01:53.82] |
Of soul-smart or despair? |
