 | Songs and ballads |  |
40
'T WAS ON A SUNDAY MORNING.
'Twas on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did peal,
A note came through my window
With “Cupid” on its seal;
And soon I heard a whisper,
As soft as seraphs sing:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
Before the bells did peal,
A note came through my window
With “Cupid” on its seal;
And soon I heard a whisper,
As soft as seraphs sing:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
The dawn had been but cloudy,
My heart had caught its gloom;
But now a sudden sunlight
Filled all my little room:
I kissed the note,—'t was guarded
With riband, flower, and string:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
My heart had caught its gloom;
But now a sudden sunlight
Filled all my little room:
I kissed the note,—'t was guarded
With riband, flower, and string:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
Oh! good was he, and handsome
As any in the land,
That vowed to me his true heart—
His heart, and faithful hand!
I hurried through the garden,
And back the gate did swing:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
As any in the land,
That vowed to me his true heart—
His heart, and faithful hand!
I hurried through the garden,
And back the gate did swing:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
41
My foot just turned the field-path,
And on its turf did rest,
When in his arms he caught me,
And strained me to his breast:
A tear was on his fond cheek,
Sweet tears that love can bring:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
And on its turf did rest,
When in his arms he caught me,
And strained me to his breast:
A tear was on his fond cheek,
Sweet tears that love can bring:—
'T was on a Sunday morning,
Before the bells did ring.
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