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The Song Book |
335 |
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Still glows the bright sunshine o'er valley and mountain,
Still warbles the blackbird its note from the tree ; Still trembles the moonbeam on streamlet and fountain,
But what are the beauties of nature to me ? With sorrow, deep sorrow, my bosom is laden,
All day I go mourning in search of my love; Ye echoes ! oh tell me, where is the sweet maiden ?
" She sleeps 'neath the green turf down by the Ash Grove."
Words (translated from Talhaiarn) by Oliphant. Tune The Ash Grove.
From Thomas's Welsh Melodies. |
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