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The Heather on the Hill
by
Frederick Loewe
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Lyrics
The mist of May is in the gloaming And all the clouds are holding still So take my hand and let's go roaming Through the heather on the hill The morning dew is blinking yonder There's lazy music in the rill And all I want to do is wander Through the heather on the hill There may be other days As rich and rare There may be other springs As full and fare But they won't be the same They'll come and go For this I know That when the mist is in gloaming And all the clouds are holding still If you're not there I won't go roaming Through the heather on the hill The heather on the hill
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