Where shall the lover rest
T. Attwood
Where shall the lover rest,
Whom the fates sever
From his true maiden's breast,
Parted for ever?
Where, through groves deep and high,
Sounds the far billow,
Where early violets die,
Under the willow.
CHORUS.
Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow.
There, through the summer day,
Cool streams are laving;
There, while the tempests sway,
Scarce are boughs waving;
There, thy rest shalt thou take,
Parted for ever,
Never again to wake,
Never, O never!
CHORUS.
Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never!
Where shall the traitor rest,
He the deceiver,
Who could win maiden's breast,
Ruin, and leave her?
In the lost battle,
Borne down by the flying,
Where ingles wars rattle,
With groans of the dying;
CHORUS.
Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow.
Her wing shall the eagle flap,
O'er the false hearted,
This warm blood the wolf shall lap,
E're life be parted.
Shame and dishonor sit
By his grave ever,
Blessing shall hallow it
Never, O never!
CHORUS.
Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow.