
George Cooper, 1863
|
The bluebird is singing his lay, To all the sweet flow’rs of the dale, The wild bee is reaming at play, And soft is the sigh of the gale; I stray by the brookside alone, Where oft we have wander’d before, And weep for my lov’d one, my own, My Willie has gone to the war! Chorus: Willie has gone to the war, Willie, Willie my lov’d one my own; Willie has gone to the war, Willie, Willie my lov’d one is gone! |
2. ’Twas here, where the lily bells grow, I last saw his noble young face, And now while he’s gone to the foe, Oh! dearly I love the old place; The whispering waters repeat The name that I love o’er and o’er, And daisies that nod at my feet, Say Willie has gone to the war! Chorus:
3. The leaves of the forest will fade, |

| Song Index
| Home Page |
