 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
HOW OFT HAVE WE WANDER'D.
How oft have we wander'd thro' Lara's sweet vale,
Where thy vows, plighting truth, were but meant to deceive,
Oh! why didst thou breathe so delusive a tale?
Oh! why did poor Kathleen so fondly believe?
'Twas here that together at evening we came,
And then wouldst thou vow that thy heart was my throne
In vain does thy Kathleen now call on thy name,
'Tis silence that meets me, and I am alone.
Where thy vows, plighting truth, were but meant to deceive,
Oh! why didst thou breathe so delusive a tale?
Oh! why did poor Kathleen so fondly believe?
'Twas here that together at evening we came,
And then wouldst thou vow that thy heart was my throne
In vain does thy Kathleen now call on thy name,
'Tis silence that meets me, and I am alone.
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Or, if silence be broken, it is by the note
Of some bird to his mate, that like rapture appears,
While around me the soul-melting melodies float,
I answer the music of joy with my tears.
But the winter will come, and the birds cease to sing,
And the bleak howling wind sweep the leaves from the bough,
Then, Lara, my woes to thy valley I'll bring,
Deserted and sad, as poor Kathleen is now.
Of some bird to his mate, that like rapture appears,
While around me the soul-melting melodies float,
I answer the music of joy with my tears.
But the winter will come, and the birds cease to sing,
And the bleak howling wind sweep the leaves from the bough,
Then, Lara, my woes to thy valley I'll bring,
Deserted and sad, as poor Kathleen is now.
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |