In the Garden of My Heart

From the Newark Evening Star, April 23, 1914. By Caro Roma.

We never miss the sunshine, until the shadows fall.
We ne’er regret the bitter words, till passed beyond recall.
We never miss the laughter, until the eyes are wet—
We never miss the happiness, till love’s bright sun has set.

We never miss the singing, until the birds have flown.
We never miss the blossoms, until the spring has gone.
We never miss our joyousness, till sorrow bids us wake.
We never know we have a heart, till it begins to break.

Dear love, bring back the sunshine, my bitter words forget.
Bring back the old-time happiness, my eyes with tears are wet.
Bring back the birds’ soft singing, dear love, why should we part?
Bid springtime blossoms bloom again in the garden of my heart.