And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me. A Grecian lad, as I hear tell, One that many loved in vain, Looked into a forest well And never looked away again. A jonquil, not a Grecian lad. Empty heads and tongues a-talking Make the rough road easy walking, And the feather pate of folly Bears the falling sky. Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking Spins the heavy world around.
Lays lads underground.
And then one could talk with them friendly and wish them farewell And watch them depart on the way that they will not return. Never ask me whose.