By Harry M. Palmer.
When the babbling brook does flow,
And the honey-suckles grow,
And the ivy clings around the old oak tree;
In a cottage, neat And small,
Lived a maiden loved by all,
My bright-eyed darling, pretty Carrie Lee.
Angels called her: "Loved one, come,
This earth's no place for thee!"
They took her to their happy home,
My bright-eyed Carrie Lee.
When the sun sank in the West,
And all nature was at rest,
Save the katydid and plaintive whip-poor-will;
Carrie's lovely voice was heard,
Like some merry warbling bird.
As we sat together on the old door-sill.-Chorus.
Oft at noonday would we rove
Through the shady woodland grove,
And talk of the happy days to come;
When wedded I should be
With my gentle Carrie Lee,
And we d mark that spot out for our future home.-Chorus.
Ah! but now how " things have changed,
Summer flowers have come again.
But my darling from all earthly pain is free;
They have laid her in the grave,
'Neath the weeping willow's shade,
And my heart is breaking for my Carrie Lee.-Chorus