 | By The Way |  |
[The moon upon the cornfield shone]
The moon upon the cornfield shone,
The evening star was mild and lone,
And all the little birds were gone
To nestle in the bushes.
The evening star was mild and lone,
And all the little birds were gone
To nestle in the bushes.
The scented herbs had sweeter grown,
The grass was all with dew-drops strown,
And every breath of air had flown
To whisper midst the rushes.
The grass was all with dew-drops strown,
And every breath of air had flown
To whisper midst the rushes.
'Twas then that by the old yew tree,
We plighted vows to wedded be,
The good and ill of life to see
And share with one another.
We plighted vows to wedded be,
The good and ill of life to see
And share with one another.
| By The Way | |