The golden day is dying beyond the purple hillnThe golden day is dying beyond the purple hillnnAnd when the wood is dark, yes, the nightingale will singnAnd when the wood is dark, yes, the nightingale will singnnAnd soon beyond the meadow the silver moon will swingnAnd soon beyond the meadow the silver moon will swingnnThe lark that sang at noon, day, and dusk the wood is stillnThe lark that sang at noon, day, and dusk the wood is still