Down here is the path where we wandered together,
'Neath the midsummer moon.
Her love was sweet as the sweet summer weather,
And left us as soon,
And the summers go by.
The bathers laugh loud in the surf over yonder.
If one should dive deep,
And rise not—no more need he suffer or ponder
O'er losses, or weep,
But sink low and sleep
While the summers go by.