Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
Come buy, come buy."
Yet if hope has flown away
His heart must be like bended bow,
Come buy, come buy:
Shall with my harp her voice combine,
They answered grinning:
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
Laura turned cold as stone
Her tree of life drooped from the root:
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
Come buy, come buy."
Yet if hope has flown away
His heart must be like bended bow,
Come buy, come buy:
Shall with my harp her voice combine,
They answered grinning:
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
Laura turned cold as stone
Her tree of life drooped from the root: