We had our day but now it's over

we had our song but now it's sung

we had our stroll through summers clover

but summer's gone now, our walkin's done





So tell me gently who be your lover

who be your lover after I'm gone

will it be the moon that hears your sighin'

will it be the willow that hears your lonesome song





Will it be the rain that clings to your bosom

will it be the sunshine that dries your golden hair

will it be the wind that warns of my returning

will a rose be in your arms when I find you waitin' there





None but the rain should cling to my bosom

none but the moon should hear my lonesome sigh

none but the wind should warn of your returning

Fare thee well, my love, good-bye