Like threads of golden sunshine
By angels' fingers wove,
Sweet as the scented woodbine,
Are the tresses of my love.
The winds that whisper softly
I'd give my life to be,
That I might kiss those tresses bright,
And die in ecstasy.

Those threads of golden sunshine
Like bonds my heart enchain,
And when in dreams I wander
They win me back again.
They throw a gleam of glory
O'er the pathway where I go,
As when of old, in splendour bright,
Heav'n's angels walkt below.