There she waits under yonder tree waiting for her love, her eyes downcast she does not see me. Every day without fail she waits for him, come sun, rain, snow or hail.
I cannot help her though I have tried. I have held her hand and nursed her when she has cried. Oh! mistress sweet what can I do to take this vale of tears from you.
The path that she has trod, she has flattened down the green and luscious sod. I feel her pain yet I can’t help. Could you not intervene please God.
So thin so thin and her eyes grown dim. Her girlish joy all gone she is as good dead her soul just holding on like the words of a nearly forgotten song.
willowdot21 