Two Hearts that Can't See the Future.
Copyright, 1894, by T. B. Harms & Co.
Composed by Al. W. Filson.
A bright, yes and balmy, sprint; morning, the song birds all joyfully trill,
A bridegroom and bride are emerging from the quaint village church on the hill.
The husband, an honest young rustic: the bride's, of the village, the belle.
Their hopes just as bright as the morning, their friends are all wishing them well.
Two hearts that can't see the future, two hearts in unison throb:
Happy the sweet village maiden, as she leans on the arm of her Bob.
A day of the brightest warm summer, a cottage that's cosy and neat:
The bride sits, while a handsome fellow whispers burning love-words at her feet.
He's well-dressed and hails from the city; she takes one long, last look within;
The tempter has won; mores the pity, she flies with her partner in sin.
Two hearts that can't see the-future, two hearts that sinfully throb:
Pity the poor village maiden, and the crushed, broken heart of her Bob.
A bitter cold night in the winter, the same rustic cottage so neat,
A bright light, that shines from the window falls full on a form in the street.
Deserted, from starvation dying, approaching her home with a sob,
Knocks faintly, and as the door opens, falls dead in the arms of her Bob.
Two hearts, but one's stilled forever, the other gives love's last throb.
In the cold grave of his dear young wife is buried the heart of poor Bob.