Ten summers have passed since I wandered there last Though I've never forgotten the way. Many times, I have thought that maybe I ought Let tendency lead me astray. When once I was young and springtime had sprung And all of the day was sunlit. It was then I was swayed by a maudlin charade Much more than I care to admit. How demons evoke when we met by the oak Blaze whispered and purred in our ears; I think of it yet, during evening's onset, It has stayed with me down through the years. Then time scurried by and so you and I Were mislaid in a blizzard, so cold, Where time is the thief of forbidden belief And sombre remorses grow old. Yet today I don't mind of the times when I find Reflections bear all that remain. I know that, alas, ten winters could pass Before I may go there again.