Lord Alfred Tennyson

And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far read more

And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went,
In that new world that is the old.

To be true to each other, let 'appen what maay
Till the end o' the daay
An read more

To be true to each other, let 'appen what maay
Till the end o' the daay
An the last load hoam.

And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.

And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the
May.

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the
May.

Ours not to reason why Ours but to do and die.

Ours not to reason why Ours but to do and die.