Ah, how quickly sung is the requiem of love?
A fickle prize is the affection of the average man's eye.
Only with age can another be of value,
and not tossed aside like a spent candle.
Oh, how quickly sung is the requiem of love?
How oft' does one act on heat rather than kindness?
A fickle prize is the affection of the average man's eye.
Oh, how quick is the heart of a woman to anger!
When done a wrong she will never forgive,
Though ask it of her she will ne'er return the favor.
Oh, how quickly sung is the requiem of love!
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