Of our lives, and of our meeting 

Of all the schemes of destiny 

It is that moment that, is most fleeting 

 

And of our fate, there is no perceiving

Of what will come, or what will be

Of our lives and of our meeting 

 

And in the grandest, scheme of things

And when of chance, fate does select

It is that moment that, is most fleeting 

 

And in our elation, of rejoicing 

Of our times and revelries; it’s, 

Of our lives and of our meeting 

 

And the world, it keeps on turning 

And when the herald, does proclaim 

It is that moment that, is most fleeting 

 

And when the scythe, falls to reaping 

Please recall, though it’s bereaving 

Of our lives and of our meeting 

It is that moment that, is most fleeting