29 years since we met.
- I leaned my back against an oak
- Thinking it was a trusty tree
- but first it bent and then it broke
- and thus my love proved false to me.
- For love is gentle, and love is kind
- A tender rose when first it’s new
- but love grows old, and waxes cold
- And fades away like morning dew.
- I will find out where she has gone,And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.