When we were lovers, wandering with the moon,
Beside the Gaspereau?
The river plashed and gurgled thro' its glooms,
Slow stealing to the sea,
A silver serpent; in the apple blooms
The soft air rustled free.
And o'er the river from afar the sound
Of mellow tinkling bells
From browsing cattle stirred the echo round
In gentle falls and swells.