Gentle Annie

S. Foster

Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie,

Like a flower thy spirit did depart;

Thou are gone, alas! like the many

That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.

Chorus:

Shall we never more behold thee;

Never hear thy winning voice again

When the Spring time comes, gentle Annie,

When the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain?

We have roamed and loved mid the bowers

When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom;

Now I stand alone mid the flowers

While they mingle their perfumes o'er thy tomb.

(

Chorus

Ah! the hours grow sad while I ponder

Near the silent spot where thou are laid,

And my heart bows down when I wander

By the streams and the meadows were we strayed.

(

Chorus