All being well, I’ll come to you,
Sweetheart, before the year is through;
And we shall find so much to do,
So much to tell.
I read your letter through and through,
And dreamt of all we’d say and do,
Till in my heart the thought of you
Rang like a bell.
Now the bell tolls, my love, for you;
For long before the year is through
You’ve gone where there is naught to do
And naught to tell.
Yet mayn’t I find when life is through
The best is still to say and do,
When I at last may come to you,
All being well?
Sweetheart, before the year is through;
And we shall find so much to do,
So much to tell.
I read your letter through and through,
And dreamt of all we’d say and do,
Till in my heart the thought of you
Rang like a bell.
Now the bell tolls, my love, for you;
For long before the year is through
You’ve gone where there is naught to do
And naught to tell.
Yet mayn’t I find when life is through
The best is still to say and do,
When I at last may come to you,
All being well?
×
![]()
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
