'Tis better to have loved and lost
than never to have loved at all.
These are the words of Tennyson
and to my broken heart they call.
For lost is what you are to me
and all my life's ambitions pall
as dust to dust is spoken o'er
and winter's night begins to fall.
But after winter comes a spring
and sun returns day after day.
The sap will rise and birds will sing
no matter what I do or say.
And as the days and weeks and years
go by, my memory will say
"We had good times", and soon the tears
will wash the misery away.
My life must come to its own end
some day, the curtain has to fall.
The river Jordan must be crossed
and verdict giv'n in judgement hall.
No matter how the dice are tossed
I'll take what comes and then recall
Tis better to have loved and lost
than never to have loved at all.