176
withered violets.
We stood beside a silvery stream,
The waters running clear,
My heart all full of bitter grief,
And in mine eye a tear.
'T was then he culled those lovely flowers,
So fragile yet so sweet,
And bade me keep them for his sake
Till we again should meet.
The waters running clear,
My heart all full of bitter grief,
And in mine eye a tear.
'T was then he culled those lovely flowers,
So fragile yet so sweet,
And bade me keep them for his sake
Till we again should meet.
In mirrored beauty, still that stream
Goes sweetly murmuring on,
Yet all those flowers have faded quite,
Ah, perished one by one;
And still the giver lingers still
Upon the stormy main,
While I sit by our silent hearth,
And wish him back again.
Goes sweetly murmuring on,
Yet all those flowers have faded quite,
Ah, perished one by one;
And still the giver lingers still
Upon the stormy main,
While I sit by our silent hearth,
And wish him back again.
He said that I must happy be,
When he was far away;
But who can cheer my lonely heart,
Or bid the tear-drops stay?
When he was far away;
But who can cheer my lonely heart,
Or bid the tear-drops stay?
