You with the sunset in your hair
And the slanting shadows from the hazel hedge
And the bats, flitting in the evening air
And the damp green stones by the waters edge.
You with the morning in your eyes
And the smell of grass all wet with dew
And the bracken lit by the sweet sunrise
And the dear beloved touch of you.
You as we climbed the hill together
Your voice which I remember still
And the feel of our fingers, linked forever
These things I hold, and always will.
In quiet times, when you are alone
Are these few memories what you see?
As you sit by the fire in your happy home
Do you ever pause to remember me?