If, on a day when all was still,

We'd walk the forest roads

and cross the uplands and fields

And reach a winding hill,

We'd stand there silent, you and I,

With hand in warm hand clasped,

And watch the drifting flights of birds

Between us and the sky.

And we'd not have to listen long

For their calls against the blue,

E'er I'd make some words to fit the song

And sing them soft to you.