She Was The World To Me

She came from her palace grand
 She came to my cottage door
 Her words were few but her looks
 Will linger for evermore
 The look in her sad dark eyes
 More tender than words could be.
 Oh but I was nothing to her
 And she was the world to me.
 And now in her garden she stands
 All dressed in fine satin and lace
 My lady so cold and so strange
 Who finds in her heart no place.
 And I knew she would be my bride
 With a kiss for a lifetime fee.
 Oh but I was nothing to her
 And she was the world to me.
 Now in her palace grand
 On a flower covered bed she lies
 Her beautiful lids are closed
 Over her sad dark eyes.
 And among the mourners who mourn
 Why should I a mourner be.
 When I was nothing to her
 And she was the world to me.
 And how will it be with our souls
 When we meet in that spirit land
 What the human heart never knows
 Will a spirit understand
 Or in some celestial form
 Will our sorrows repeated be.
 Will I still be nothing to her
 Though she is the world to me.