 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
166
'TWAS LOVING THEE TOO WELL.
Oh, frown not, lady, frown not so,
On one whose heart is thine;
Let one kind word before I go,
Let one kind look be mine!
An aching heart, while e'er I live,
My fault shall deeply tell:
But oh—'twas one thou might'st forgive—
'Twas loving thee too well.
On one whose heart is thine;
Let one kind word before I go,
Let one kind look be mine!
An aching heart, while e'er I live,
My fault shall deeply tell:
But oh—'twas one thou might'st forgive—
'Twas loving thee too well.
Oh! if that smile had been less sweet,
That cheek less blooming been;
Less bright those eyes I used to meet,
Or were those charms less seen;
Or, if this heart had been too cold
To feel thy beauty's spell—
Thou ne'er had'st call'd thy slave too bold,
For loving thee too well!
That cheek less blooming been;
Less bright those eyes I used to meet,
Or were those charms less seen;
Or, if this heart had been too cold
To feel thy beauty's spell—
Thou ne'er had'st call'd thy slave too bold,
For loving thee too well!
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |