If my promise should not be kept,
And our love dwindle, and the fire go out,
Do not seek love in the arms of a stranger
Or follow the moon in drunken misery,
But seek out the garden where we met
And find the rose that blooms for you, my love.
There you will find a love so true
That the memories of me will fade like a passing dream
And all days hence will be blessed.
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