Song.
18th Century Anne Hunter EnglishSONG.
WHERE the green ivy twining, Binds round the ruins brow, I heard a voice complaining In numbers sad and low.
"Alas! she's gone for ever, Now low in earth she lies; And I, forlorn, shall never Behold those speaking eyes.
"The pangs of grief beguiling, She sooth'd our parting hour; Amidst her tears soft smiling, Like sunbeams thro' a shower.
"But, ah! she's gone for ever, Now low in earth she lies, And I, forlorn, must never Behold those speaking eyes."