The Wedding Day that Never Came.
Copyright, 1898, by A. M. Hall.
Words and Music by Thos. F. Morrissey.
In a pretty little hamlet lived
A maiden tried and true,
She loved a soldier brave and bold,
And he loved her she knew,
For years they courted, till at last
Both named the wedding day,
Then thought how naught but happiness
Could cross their life's pathway,
But, sad to say, one day
Bold duty called him from her side,
To fight for his dear country's sake,
On the battle-field he died,
And when the sad news reached her,
Of him she loved so well,
She raved and tore her hair with grief,
Her pain no tongue can tell.
Her poor heart's nearly broken,
As she kisses some love token;
Can this all be a dream to me,
At times she will exclaim;
At the gate no more she'll meet him,
Nor with a fond kiss greet him,
And can't forget her wedding day
That never, never came.
The poor soul sits each day and moans
As if her heart would break;
She pictures him before her face,
In slumber or awake;
In the old church-yard she's often seen,
At his grave, to kneel and pray,
And strews fresh flowers o'er his mound
Before she goes away;
He fought Die battle bravely,
And had died a hero bold,
But left an aching heart behind.
'Tis a story often told,
No more she'll kiss and fondle him,
To a brighter land he's flown, -
And left a sweetheart, true as steel,
To bear the grief alone.- Chorus.