American Old Time Song Lyrics: 23 On Yonder Rock Reclining

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 23

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On yonder rock reclining,
That fierce and swarthy form behold,
Fast his hands his carbine hold,
'Tis his best friend of old;
This way his steps inclining,
His scarlet plume waves o'er his brow,
And his velvet cloak hangs low,
Playing in careless flow;
E'en while the storm is beating,
Afar hear echo repeating,
Diavolo! Diavolo! Diavolo!

Although his foes waylaying,
He fights with hate and rage combined,
Tow'rds the gentle fair they find
He's ever mild and kind.
The maid too heedless straying,
(For one, we Pietro's daughter know,)
Home returns full sad and slow,
What can have made her so?
Each one the maiden meeting,
Is sure to be repeating,
Diavolo! Diavolo! Diavolo!

While thus his deeds accusing,
Let justice, too, at least be shown,
All that's lost here, let us own,
Mayn't be his prize alone.
Full oft his name abusing,
Perchance some young And rustic beau,
Whilst his hopes with conquest glow,
At beauty's shrine bows low;
Each sighing lover dread,
For of him more truly be it said,
Diavolo! Diavolo! Diavolo!
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