It is good to sit in the afterglow,
While some one’s hand in your big one lies
And nobody there to know,
Ah, golden gleaming its many towers,
The palace ye build, ye twain.
Where two shall dwell thro’ the love-lit hours
In a golden castle in Spain.
Who is it laughs in the dusk behind?
Who lurks in the shadows there?
Will the years that are coming to you be kind