Poems by George P. Morris | ||
OH, THIS LOVE!
Oh, this love—this love!
I ainse the passion slighted;
But hearts that truly love,
Must break or be united.
Oh, this love!
I ainse the passion slighted;
But hearts that truly love,
Must break or be united.
Oh, this love!
When first he cam' to woo,
I little cared aboot him;
But seene I felt as though
I could na' live without him.
Oh, this love!
I little cared aboot him;
But seene I felt as though
I could na' live without him.
Oh, this love!
He brought to me the ring,
My hand asked o' my mither—
I could na' bear the thought
That he should wed anither.
Oh, this love!
My hand asked o' my mither—
I could na' bear the thought
That he should wed anither.
Oh, this love!
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And now I'm a' his ain—
In a' his joys I mingle;
Nae for the wealth of warlds
Wad I again be single!
Oh, this love!
In a' his joys I mingle;
Nae for the wealth of warlds
Wad I again be single!
Oh, this love!
Poems by George P. Morris | ||