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Poem by Anne Hunter
Song 12. Where the green ivy twining
WHERE the green ivy twining, Binds round the burn's brow, I heard a voice complaining In numbers sad and low. "Alas! she's gone for ever, Now low in earth she lies; And I, forlorn, shall never Behold those speaking eyes. " The pangs of grief beguiling, She sooth'd our parting hour; Amidst her tears soft smiling, Like sunbeams thro' a shower. "But, ah! she's gone for ever, Now low in earth she lies, And I, forlorn, must never Behold those speaking eyes."
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