If all the year was summer-time, br And all the aim of life br Was just to lilt on like a rhyme – br Then I would be your wife. br br If all the days were August days, br And crowned with golden weather, br How happy then through green-clad ways br We two could stray together! br br If all the nights were moonlit nights, br And we had naught to do br But just to sit and plan delights, br Then I would be with you. br br If life was all a summer fete, br Its soberest pace the “glide, ” br Then I would choose you for my mate, br And keep you at my side. br br But winter makes full half the year, br And labour half of life, br And all the laughter and good cheer br Gives place to wearing strife. br br Days will grow cold, and moons wax old, br And then a heart that’s true br Is better far than grace or gold – br And so, my love, adieu! br I cannot wed with you.