...from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing ; But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying. She sinus the wild songs of her dear nAtirt plains, Ev'ry note which he lov'd awaking— Ah! little they...

...But coldly she turns from their gaze, mad weeps, For her heart in his grave ii lying. She sings tin: wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he lov'd awnking— Ab ! little they think, who delight in her strains, BOW the heart of the minstrel is breaking...

...from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing : But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying. She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, Every note which he lov'd awaking — Ah ! little they think, who...

...from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing : But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying. She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, Every note which he lov'd awaking — Ah ! little they think, who...

...from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing i But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave...strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! He hnd liv'd for his love, for his country he died, They were all that to life had tmwhi'd him,— Nor...

...from the land, where her young hero sleeps, And lovers are round her sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave...song of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking.— Ah! little they think who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is...

...her sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze and weep(, For her heart in hit grave is lying I She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which be loved awaking — Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel...

...from the land, where her young hero sleeps, And lovers are round her, sighing ; But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying ! II. She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he lov'd awaking. — Ah...

...weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying. She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, Eveiy note which he lov'd awaking — Ah ! little they think,...How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! He had lived for his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him — Nor...

...are round her sighing ; But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his- cold grave is lying ! She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking. — Ah! little they think who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel...