Once Again My Songs I Sing Thee, Now The Spell Is Broken; Brothers, Yet Again I Bring Thee Songs Of Love The Token. Of My Joy And Of My Sorrow Gladly, Sadly Bringing;-- Summer Not A Song Would Borrow-- Winter Sets Me Singing. O When Life Turns Sad And Lonely, When Our Joys Are Dead; When Are Heard The Ravens Only In The Trees O'Erhead; When The Stormwind On The Bowers Wreaks Its Wicked Will, When The Frost Paints Lying Flowers, How Should I Be Still? When The Clouds Are Low Descending, And The Sun Is Drowned; When The Winter Knows No Ending, And The Cold Is Crowned; When With Evil Gloom Oppressed Lie The Ruins Bare; When A Sigh Escapes The Breast, Takes Us Unaware; When The Snow-Wrapped Mountain Dreams Of Its Summer Gladness, When The Wood Is Stripped And Seems Full Of Care And Sadness; When The Songs Are Growing Still As In Death'S Repose, And The Heart Is Growing Chill, And The Eyelids Close; Then, O Then I Can But Sing For I Dream Her Coming-- May, Sweet May! I See Her Bring Buds And Wild-Bee Humming! Through The Silence Heart-Appalling, As I Stand And Listen, I Can Hear Her Song-Birds Calling, See Her Green Leaves Glisten! Thus Again My Songs I Sing Thee, Now The Spell Is Broken; Brothers, Yet Again I Bring Thee Of My Love The Token. Of My Joy And Of My Sorrow Gladly, Sadly Bringing,-- Summer Not A Song Would Borrow!-- Winter Sets Me Singing.