The songs of summer are over and past! br The swallow's forsaken the dripping eaves; br Ruined and black 'mid the sodden leaves br The nests are rudely swung in the blast: br And ever the wind like a soul in pain br Knocks and knocks at the window-pane. br br The songs of summer are over and past! br Woe's me for a music sweeter than theirs-- br The quick, light bound of a step on the stairs, br The greeting of lovers too sweet to last: br And ever the wind like a soul in pain br Knocks and knocks at the window-pane.