...light. 1 play'da sad and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that fitted well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a...well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her lace. I told her of the Knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand ; And how for ten long years...

...my joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me hest, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest...

...my joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest...

...joy, ray Genevieve ! She loves me hest, whene'er I sing The songs, that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude sang that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes...

...and ah ! The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace : And she forgave me that I gazed Too fondly on her face ! ii But when I told the cruel scorn Tbat...

...She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful air, 1 sang an old and moving story — An old 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 not...

...of the armed knight ; She stood and listen'd to my harp, Amid the ling'ring light. 1 play'da sad nnd 7/ fitted well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flittini* blush, With downcast eyes and modest...

...and, ah The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; And she forgave me that I gazed Too fondly on her face. But when I told the cruel scorn That crazed...

...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...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. Di rossore suffusa Ella ascoltava, Con occhi bassi e alteramente umile ; Che sapea, come intento io...

...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 That ruin wild and hoary. 27 Di rossore sufiusa Ella ascoltava,...