The Flower

She was the flower of my life,
The rose that bloomed in spring,
The lily that shone in the night,
The song that made me sing.
She was the joy of my heart,
The light of my soul,
The grace of my art,
The whole of my whole.
But fate, that cruel and blind,
Snatched her away from me,
And left me here to find,
A world without her to see.
And now I wander alone,
In this dark and dismal place,
Where nothing can atone,
For the loss of her face.
I weep for her each day,
And call her name in vain,
But she does not answer or stay,
She is gone, and I remain.
Oh, flower of my life,
Where have you gone?
Oh, rose of my strife,
Why have you flown?
Oh, lily of my love,
How can I bear?
Oh, song of my dove,
Will you not hear?
Oh, joy of my heart,
Come back to me,
Oh, light of my soul,
Let me see thee,
Oh, grace of my art,
Restore my skill,
Oh, whole of my whole,
Live in me still.