A Memory

In the linden up aloft a little bird began to sing:
Loud it was beside the wood. Then up once more my heart did spring
To a spot it knew of old; I saw the roses standing there.
They call to mind full many a thought which toward a lady I do bear.

"A thousand years it seems to me since in my lover's arms I lay.
Never mine the fault that he holds aloof so many a day.
Since I saw the flowers no more, heard no more the birds in song,
Brief indeed has been my joy, and my sorrow all too long."