My Lonely Heart
At break of day past my fathers tower, My love Lord Robert rode, Singing as he went by my bower, But a look he never gave me. I called to him, but he did not hear. Not e'en a look gave he. Rode he far from his own Ellen dear, On the road towards the sea. I passed the gate, and I called and cried, As he rode to the sea. And I knew he would not turn again. He will ne'er come back to me. Last night, we quarrelled and spoke in haste, And bitter words had we. And so I am sad for fear my love He will not come back to me. I sit alone and long for him, The tender words he said. I shall mourn him 'till this world shall end, And my lonely heart is dead.
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