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The Song Book |
331 |
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But now the dawn is cloudy, and chill the morning dew, And May no longer seems to wear her robe of verdant hue; No more my footsteps wander towards that cottage door ; Along the path, her swain to meet, the maiden trips no more. The cottage still remaineth, but no bright embers glow, No wreathed smoke amid the trees comes curling from below; The maiden hath departed, and I am left to mourn With heavy heart, o'er fleeting joys that never can return.
Words (translated from Talhaiarn) by Oliphant. Tune The Dawn of Day.
From Thomas's Welsh Melodies. |
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