The Minstrel Plays

The minstrel plays and we follow;

To the strains of a lute we dance;

The tune played is full of sorrow –

An end to such a sad romance;

The fool wears the mask of gladness –

But the disguise is wet with tears;

In my heart there's only sadness –

As has been in my life for years;

In the costume party of life –

We go on but in different plays;

You wear not the mask of a wife –

Single you are in many ways;

Do we part as friends who can say?

The pain is still too much today.