Ten summers have passed since I wandered there last
Though I've never forgotten the way.
Many times, I have thought that maybe I ought
Let tendency lead me astray.

When once I was young and springtime had sprung
And all of the day was sunlit.
It was then I was swayed by a maudlin charade
Much more than I care to admit.

How demons evoke when we met by the oak
Blaze whispered and purred in our ears;
I think of it yet, during evening's onset,
It has stayed with me down through the years.

Then time scurried by and so you and I
Were mislaid in a blizzard, so cold,
Where time is the thief of forbidden belief
And sombre remorses grow old.

Yet today I don't mind of the times when I find
Reflections bear all that remain.
I know that, alas, ten winters could pass
Before I may go there again.