'Neath the shadow, down the meadow, leaves lying on each side, by the river, flowers shiver, fading, dying in their pride. Someone straying, long delaying, stands a-parting down the lane, I must leave you, someone's saying, till the roses come again. When the roses come again, when the roses come again, I will meet you, I will greet you, when the roses come again. Oh-la-lay-ee, ah-le-hee, ah-le-hee. ( ) As I wander, I will ponder on a happy bye and bye, on a summer over yonder with joy to you and I. Do not borrow grief or sorrow in the hours that yet remain, we shall know a glad tomorrow when the roses come again. When the roses come again, when the roses come again, I will meet you, I will greet you, when the roses come again. Oh-la-lay-ee, ah-le-hee, ah-le-hee. ( ) Sunshine over clover blossom on the meadow wide, summer's fingers sweetly linger everywhere on every side. Someone's roaming in the gloaming, happy hearts that feel no pain, all their sadness turned to gladness, now the roses come again. When the roses come again, when the roses come again, I will meet you, I will greet you, when the roses come again. Oh-la-lay-ee, ah-le-hee, ah-le-hee.