I Lost Her at the Masquerade.
Copyright, 1894, by W. J. Melbourne.
Words and Music by W. J. Melbourne.
The scene is one of child and father, at the closing of the day,
Seated in a rustic arbor. "My only comfort," he would say.
At his feet his little daughter, old enough to wonder why.
Begged for him to tell the story how it was her mamma died;
'Twas many years he'd kept the secret-shielding honor and her name.
The wife he loved had broke her vows, he never wished to see her again,
And so he told his child the story-"Mamma was the season's rage;
I trusted her one winter's eve, and lost her at the masquerade.
Only at the masquerade, only promise me, my love,
Only while my life remains, my companion be;
Many have left a happy home before they were of age;
My little dear, don't leave me hero to join the masquerade.
Your mamma was the village queen, and her beauty something grand;
The tempter came, she went away with him to a distant foreign land.
No letter came-I waited home, my head in grief it was bowed down.
Then my doom among the mail, the fatal missive there I found;
I don't regret, my dear little pet, at what I have told to you.
Perhaps in life you'll be a wife-if so, always try And be true.
My entire fortune you'll receive when I am dead and you're of age,
But promise me before I die that you will shun the masquerade." - Chorus.