 | Rhapsodies |  |
86
BALLAD.
THE WILLOW.
Ah, willow, willow! droop with me,
Still bend thy verdant head,
For I have lost my own true love,
Ah! wherefore is she fled?
Sad willow tree,
She's gone from me,
So, willow, I will weep with thee.
Still bend thy verdant head,
For I have lost my own true love,
Ah! wherefore is she fled?
Sad willow tree,
She's gone from me,
So, willow, I will weep with thee.
The silver stream which bathes thy root,
Is emblem of my heart,
It gently murmurs as it glides;
I moan love's cruel smart.
So willow weep,
When cold I sleep,
And shade me in the grave full deep.
Is emblem of my heart,
It gently murmurs as it glides;
I moan love's cruel smart.
So willow weep,
When cold I sleep,
And shade me in the grave full deep.
87
For round thee still the breeze shall moan;
Thou still wilt droop thine head,
And, weeping, shade the friendly turf
That shrouds me when I'm dead.
So, willow tree,
I'll sit by thee,
Thou soother of my misery.
Thou still wilt droop thine head,
And, weeping, shade the friendly turf
That shrouds me when I'm dead.
So, willow tree,
I'll sit by thee,
Thou soother of my misery.
| Rhapsodies | |