Love is a many-splendored thing;
       It's the April rose,
       That only grows in the early spring.
       Love is nature's way of giving,
       A reason to be living,
       The golden crown that makes a man a king.

       Once on a high and windy hill,
       In the morning mist,
       Two lovers kissed
       And the world stood still.
       Then your fingers touched
       My silent heart and taught it how to sing;
       Yes, true love's
       A many splendored thing.
       (Repeat the above)
             Music   Piano Music