Bluebirds, linger here awhile,
O'er this sacred grassy pile,
Sing your sweetest songs to me
'Tis the grave of Eulalie.
Roses white, around her tomb
Gently wave and sweetly bloom,
|: Let your silent language
be We will bloom for Eulalie. :|
2. Streamlet, chanting at her feet
Mournful music, sad and sweet,
Wake her not, she dreams of me
'Neath the yew tree, Eulalie!
Eulalie, but yesternight,
Came a spirit veiled in white;
|: I knew it could be none but thee,
Bride of Death, lost Eulalie. :|
|
3. Angels, guard her with your wings,
Shield her from unholy things,
Bid her dream love-dreams of me,
Till I come, sleep, Eulalie!
Bluebirds, linger here awhile,
O'er this sacred grass pile,
|: Sing your sweetest songs to me
'Tis the grave of Eulalie. :|
|
