Chorus.
You remember the old apple-tree, Emma,
With its wide-spreading branches o'erhead?
Such perfume I have never since found, Emma,
As its sweet, fragrant blossoms did shed.
But now we are far, far apart, Emma,
The sunny days of childhood are o'er,
But we'll roam hand in hand 'mong the flowers, Emma,
That bloom on the Bright Golden Shore.
Chorus.