Maybe ashfields and brine or gold flowers rare Time and sweet colombine will brighten the air And all of the sorrows and tears you have known Will be cinders and see where a blossom has grown Far from ashfields and brine
Turn to the north wind's cold in your face Ask and you'll find a calm peaceful place A clear-running stream and a forest of pine A morning for dreams and an evening for wine Far from ashfields and brine
Come when the autumn burns through my land And let its flame feel warm to your hand Stay by my side while the winter comes on You may leave in the spring when the memories are gone Of the ashfields and brine
Love all the summer, carefree and warm Heed now the calm of the gathering storm Barren and bitter my last years will be From the smoke of the fire and the spray of the sea Leaving ashfields and brine
Ashfields and brine or gold flowers rare Time and sweet colombine will brighten the air And all of the sorrows and tears I have known Will be cinders and see where a blossom has grown Far from ashfields and brine