II.
When your hair is silver-white,-- And your cheeks no longer bright With the roses of the May,-- I will kiss your lips, and say: Oh! my darling, mine alone, You have never older grown, Yes, my darling, mine alone,-- You have never older grown.
When your hair is silver-white,-- And your cheeks no longer bright With the roses of the May,-- I will kiss your lips, and say: Oh! my darling, mine alone, You have never older grown, Yes, my darling, mine alone,-- You have never older grown.