 | Original Songs (1861) |  |
79
SHE LIVES UPON THE GREEN.
I
She lives upon the green below,Where roses round her bloom,
And through the open casement throw
Their perfume in her room;
And there she sits and smiles on me,
When I to drill march by;
My comrades look on enviously,
But what of that care I?
II
And some have tried all sorts of waysTo wean her heart from mine;
But she is deaf to blame or praise,
Nor heedeth word or sign.
Her mother says that if I'll wait
Until she's sweet nineteen,
I with her pretty bird shall mate,
And nestle on the green.
T. M.
| Original Songs (1861) | |