Томас Бейли Олдрич (Thomas Bailey Aldrich)

Sweetheart, Sigh No More

It was with doubt and trembling
  I whispered in her ear.
  Go, take her answer, bird-on-bough,
That all the world may hear--
Sweetheart, sigh no more!

Sing it, sing it, tawny throat,
  Upon the wayside tree,
How fair she is, how true she is,
  How dear she is to me--
Sweetheart, sigh no more!

Sing it, sing it, and through the summer long
  The winds among the clover-tops,
And brooks, for all their silvery stops,
  Shall envy you the song--
Sweetheart, sigh no more!

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