| Lyrics: | Down yonder green valley where streamlets meander,
When twilight is fading, I pensively
rove,
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of the lonely Ash
grove.
'Twas there while the blackbird was joyfully singing,
I first met my dear
one, the joy of my heart;
Around us for gladness the bluebells were ringing,
Ah! then
little thought I how soon we should part.
Still grows the bright sunshine o'er
valley and mountain,
Still warbles the blackbird his note from the tree;
Still trembles
the moonbeam on streamlet and fountain,
But what are the beauties of nature to
me.
With sorrow, deep sorrow, my bosom is laden,
All day I go mourning in
search of my love.
Ye echoes, O tell me, where is the sweet maiden?
She sleeps 'neath the
green turf down by the Ash grove |
