| Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie,
|
| Like a flow’r thy spirit did depart;
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| Thou art gone, alas! |
| like the many
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| That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.
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| cho: Shall we never more behold thee;
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| Never hear thy winning voice again
|
| When the Springtime comes gentle Annie,
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| When the wild flow’rs are scattered o’er the plain?
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| When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom;
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| Now I stand alone mid the flowers
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| While they mingle their perfumes o’er thy tomb.
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| cho: Shall we never more behold thee;
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| Never hear thy winning voice again
|
| When the Springtime comes gentle Annie,
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| When the wild flow’rs are scattered o’er the plain?
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| Near the silent spot where thou art laid,
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| And my heart bows down when I wander
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| By the streams and the meadows where we stray’d.
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| cho: Shall we never… behold thee;
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| Never hear thy winning voice again
|
| When the Springtime comes gentle Annie,
|
| When the wild flow’rs are scattered o’er the plain?
|
| Gentle Annie
|
| When the wild flow’rs are scattered o’er the plain? |