  Where shall the lover rest, Whom the fates sever From his true maiden’s breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow. CHORUS Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce are boughs waving; There, thy rest shalt thou take, Parted for ever, Never again to wake, Never, O never! CHORUS Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never! Where shall the traitor rest, He, the deceiver, Who could win maiden’s breast, Ruin, and leave her? In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war’s rattle With groans of the dying. CHORUS Eleu loro, &c. There shall he be lying. Her wing shall the eagle flap O’er the false-hearted; His warm blood the wolf shall lap, Ere life be parted. Shame and dishonour sit By his grave ever; Blessing shall hallow it,— Never, O never! CHORUS Eleu loro, &c. Never, O never! Sir W. Scott. |
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