Along the field as we came by

 ALONG the field as we came by 
A year ago, my love and I, 
The aspen over stile and stone 
Was talking to itself alone.
 
‘Oh who are these that kiss and pass?
A country lover and his lass; 
Two lovers looking to be wed; 
And time shall put them both to bed, 
But she shall lie with earth above, 
And he beside another love.
’

And sure enough beneath the tree 
There walks another love with me, 
And overhead the aspen heaves 
Its rainy-sounding silver leaves; 
And I spell nothing in their stir,
But now perhaps they speak to her, 
And plain for her to understand 
They talk about a time at hand 
When I shall sleep with clover clad, 
And she beside another lad.

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