  (Song). CRIMSON leaves are falling o’er me, Autumn zephyrs fan my brow, Strange weird fancies flit before me, Surely I am dreaming now! Woodland echoes could not whisper Gentle words for mortal ear; Still I hear them, sweetly, clearly, And I know that thou art near. Chorus: Thy sweet spirit lingers near me, Oh! the joy that thought affords. Darling, thou art come to cheer me With thy gentle loving words. Oh! my darling, linger near me As I mingle with the throng; Whisper softly, I will hear thee When strange voices tempt to wrong. Life for me hath hours of sorrow, Weary days of anxious fear; But I’ll meet them, strongly, bravely, If I feel that thou art near. Chorus: Thy sweet spirit lingers near me, Oh! the joy that thought affords Darling, thou art come to cheer me With thy gentle loving words. |
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