...lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own,— My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story,—>An old rude song, that suited well...

...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...

...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could...

...my lay Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Geneviève ! ee of knowledge attainable by man is able to set him...desire of fond endearments and te»der officiousnese ; She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she kqew I could...

...my lay Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Geneviève ! to meet again ! But never either found another To...remaining. Like cliffs which had been rent asunder: She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I could...

...my lay, Amid the lmgering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could...

...my harp Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, 1 sung an old and moving story — An old rude song that fitted well...

...Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy ! my Genevieve ' I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story—...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace, For well she knew I could...

...hope! my joy ! my Genevievef She loves me best whene'er Ising The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story—...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace, For well she knew I could...

...Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy ! my Genevieve I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story—...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace, For well she knew I could...