When apples still grow in NovembernWhen Blossoms still bloom from each treenWhen leaves are still green in DecembernIt's then that our land will be freenI wander her hills and her valleysnAnd still through my sorrow I seenA land that has never known freedomnAnd only her rivers run freennI drink to the death of her manhoodnThose men who'd rather have diednThan to live in the cold chains of bondagenTo bring back their rights were deniednOh where are you now when we need younWhat burns where the flame used to benAre ye gone like the snows of last winternAnd will only our rivers run free?nnHow sweet is life but we're cryingnHow mellow the wine but it's drynHow fragrant the rose but it's dyingnHow gentle the breeze but it sighsnWhat good is in youth when it's agingnWhat joy is in eyes that can't seenWhen there's sorrow in sunshine and flowersnAnd still only our rivers run free