Before now was
      a song: 

You go to the graveyard to talk to yourself
      by black night remembering stars

More have sailed away
than can ever return
you have loved them all
and your love still burns

More still remain children
while trees around them grow
lilliputians of emotions
yet you love all you know

That love caught up with a miller
as he set out to sea
his sails kept on turning
returning him to thee

Bring him to the old town: more talk, song, more
      more of a sheen to the apple

O, before an end
      like this