Maybe no more I will walk down these streets,
Maybe this evening is the last to come,
Maybe tonight I count stars one last time,
And tomorrow morn this world won’t be my home.
Maybe a song will bid somewhere farewell,
Maybe the last soft warmth will leave a hearth,
Maybe a bird will fold its wings for e’er,
A flower will sleep on the breast of earth.
Maybe a cloud will shower one last rain,
Maybe a tree will bloom with one last spring,
Maybe a flute will sound one last long note,
A last lilt will play on a lyre’s string.
Maybe a pen will write one last grey poem,
Maybe a mouth will utter one last rhyme,
Maybe a cup will for the last time fill,
And someone’s heart will make love one last time.