I Play My Sweet Old Airs - The Airs He Knew When Our Love Was True - But He Does Not Balk His Determined Walk, And Passes Up The Stairs. I Sing My Songs Once More, And Presently Hear His Footstep Near As If It Would Stay; But He Goes His Way, And Shuts A Distant Door. So I Wait For Another Morn And Another Night In This Soul-Sick Blight; And I Wonder Much As I Sit, Why Such A Woman As I Was Born!