One hundred and fifty four years,
Three jubilees, all gone.
You have not been here, but
I love you still the same.

There shall be no other, but you
For whilst I know you love me,
How can I love another?
I love you still the same.

But I come back to listen, and
Wait for a dove to send me, a
Letter from you or a message.
I love you still the same.

You, my Menolly, there is no
Other woman, lady or lass,
Who can be what you are to me.
I love you still the same.


Penned by my hand on the 9th of Phaestian, in the year 384 AF.