When apples still grow in November And blossoms still bloom on each tree When leaves, they're still green in December It's then that our land will be free I wander her hills and her valleys And still through my sorrow I see A land that has never known freedom And still only her rivers run free I drink to the death of her manhood To those men who would rather they die Than to live in the cold chains of bondage To bring back their rights were denied Oh, where are you now, when we need you? What burns where the flame used to be? Are you gone like the snows of last winter? And will only our rivers run free? How sweet is life, but we're crying How mellow the wine, but we're dry How fragrant the rose, but it's dying How gentle the wind, but it sighs What good is in youth when it's aging? What joy is in eyes that can see? Well, there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers And still only our rivers run free