Silver Threads Among the Gold

Darling, I am growing

old, 'til

the threads of months are gold.

Shine upon my brow

today,

life is fading fast

away.

But my darling, you will

be, will be

always young and fair

to see.

Yes, my darling, you will

be

always

young and fair to see.

When your hair is silver

white,

and your cheek no longer

bright,

with the

roses

of today, I will keep

you lips and

say,

"O my darling,

mine alone, alone,

you have never

grown a

day." Yes, my darling, mine

alone,

you

have

never

grown a day." Darling, I am growing,

growing old,

'til

the threads of months

are gold. Shine

upon my brow today,

life is fading

fast

away.