Henry’s Cottage Maid

Ah ! where can fly my (f)soul?s true-love,
Sad I wander this lone grove,
Sighs and tears for him I (f)shed,
Henry is from Laura fled;
Thy love to me thou did(f)st impart,
Thy love soon won my virgin heart,
But deare(f)st Henry, thou?st betray?d
Thy love with thy poor cottage maid.

Through the vale my grief appears,
Sighing sad with pearly tears,
Oft thy image is my theme,
As I wander on the green;
See from my cheek the colour flies,
And love?s (f)sweet hope within me dies,
For, oh ! dear Henry thou?st betray?d
Thy love with thy poor cottage maid.

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