The Heather on the Hill

The mist of May is in the gloaming
And all the clouds are holding still
So take my hand and let's go roaming
Through the heather on the hill

The morning dew is blinking yonder
There's lazy music in the rill
And all I want to do is wander
Through the heather on the hill

There may be other days
As rich and rare
There may be other springs
As full and fare
But they won't be the same
They'll come and go
For this I know

That when the mist is in gloaming
And all the clouds are holding still
If you're not there I won't go roaming
Through the heather on the hill
The heather on the hill