III.
Love can never-more grow old,
Locks may lose their brown and gold;
Cheeks may fade and hollow grow;
But the hearts that love, will know
Never, winter's frost and chill;
Summer warmth is in them still,
Never winter's frost and chill,
Summer warmth is in them still.
IV.
Love is always young and fair,—
What to us is silver hair,
Faded cheeks or steps grown slow,
To the hearts that beat below?
Since I kissed you, mine alone,
You have never older grown,
Since I kissed you, mine alone,
You have never older grown.
Chorus to last verse.
Darling, we are growing old,
Silver threads among the gold,
Shine upon my brow today;—
Life is fading fast away.
WHEN SILVER THREADS ARE GOLD AGAIN
Words by Eben E. Rexford; music by H. P. Danks.
Copyright, 1915, by Estate of Hamilton S. Gordon.
You tell me we are growing old,
And show the silver in your hair,
Whence time has stolen all the gold,
That made your youthful tresses fair;
But years can never steal away
The love that never can grow old.
So what care we for tresses gray,—
Since love will always keep its gold.
Oh, darling, I can read today,
The question in your thoughtful eyes;
You wonder if I long for May,—
Beneath the autumn's frosty skies.
Oh, love of mine, be sure of this:
For me no face could be so fair
As this one that I stoop to kiss
Beneath its crown of silver hair.
Oh, darling, though your step grows slow,
And time has furrowed well your brow,
And all June's roses hide in snow,
You never were so dear as now.
Oh, truest, tend'rest heart of all,
Lean on me when you weary grow,
As days, like leaves of autumn, fall
About the feet that falter so.