 | Songs and Ballads |  |
18
WHY COMES HE NOT?
Why comes he not?—Why comes he not?
Oh sister can you say?
My boy and I have watch'd the path
Together all the day.
I'm jealous of the eager child,
I fain would be alone,
That his first coming may be seen,
By no eye save my own.
Oh sister can you say?
My boy and I have watch'd the path
Together all the day.
I'm jealous of the eager child,
I fain would be alone,
That his first coming may be seen,
By no eye save my own.
He comes—'tis he! I hear his steed,
Ah would he were in sight!
You think I am deceived? But hark,
You hear him—I was right.
Fool that I was—had I gone forth,
Beyond that shady grove,
I might already have beheld
The form of him I love.
Ah would he were in sight!
You think I am deceived? But hark,
You hear him—I was right.
Fool that I was—had I gone forth,
Beyond that shady grove,
I might already have beheld
The form of him I love.
He darts like lightning from the trees,
He waves his hand aloft,
Again I hear those words of love,
That I have heard so oft.
I envy not the dame whose lord
Is never forc'd to roam,
She never knew the boundless joy
Of such a welcome home!
He waves his hand aloft,
Again I hear those words of love,
That I have heard so oft.
I envy not the dame whose lord
Is never forc'd to roam,
She never knew the boundless joy
Of such a welcome home!
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