The Willow-Tree.

The morn was bright, the steeds were light,

The wedding guests were gay:

Young Ellen stood within the wood

And watched them pass away.

She scarcely saw the gallant train:

The tear-drop dimmed her ee:

Unheard the maiden did complain

Beneath the Willow-Tree.

“Oh Robin, thou didst love me well,

Till, on a bitter day,

She came, the Lady Isabel,

And stole thy heart away.

My tears are vain: I live again

In days that used to be,

When I could meet thy welcome feet

Beneath the Willow-Tree.

“Oh Willow gray, I may not stay

Till Spring renew thy leaf;

But I will hide myself away,

And nurse a lonely grief.

It shall not dim Life’s joy for him:

My tears he shall not see:

While he is by, I’ll come not nigh

My weeping Willow-Tree.

“But when I die, oh let me lie

Beneath thy loving shade,

That he may loiter careless by,

Where I am lowly laid.

And let the white white marble tell,

If he should stoop to see,

‘Here lies a maid that loved thee well,

Beneath the Willow-Tree.’”




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