I WILL GATHER VIOLETS

I will gather violets and
heatherbells and thyme.
I will gather wintergreen and
golden celandine.
I will make a garland
for the one I love the best, and
memories of you, my dear, I'm
weaving with the rest.

Here's the path we strolled along one
Sunday afternoon.
Here we lingered hand-in-hand up
on this mossy stone.
Now beside another
hand-in-hand you cross the stream, but
I'll be kind, for you are mine all
in the land of rest.

Lonely is my dwelling place and
lonely I do go.
Here I dwell in quietness and
poverty also.
Noone can deprive me
of the days that were so bright, and
in my garland there is gold all
in the summer's night.

I will gather violets and
heatherbells and thyme.
I will gather wintergreen and
golden celandine.
I will make a garland
for the one I love the best, and
memories of you, my dear, I'm
weaving with the rest.

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