Page:Willow tree.pdf/2



THE WILLOW TREE.

, take me to your arms, my love, For keen the wind doth blow; O take me to your arms, my love, For bitter is my woe. She hears me not, she cares not, Nor will she list to me; And here I lie, in misery, Beneath the willow tree.

My love has wealth and beauty, The rich attend her door; My love has wealth and beauty, But I, alas! am poor. The ribbon fair that bound her hair Is all that's left to me; And here I lie, in misery, Beneath the willow tree.

I once had gold and silver, I thought them without end; I once had gold and silver, I thought I had a friend; My wealth is lost, my friend is false, My love is stole from me; And here I lie, in misery, Beneath the willow tree.