ALICE GRAY.
Reading edition
She's all my fancy painted her, She's lovely, she's divine; But her heart it is another's, She never can be mine; Yet lov'd I as man never lov'd, A love without decay, Oh! my heart, my heart is breaking For the love of Alice Gray!
Her dark brown hair is braided O'er a brow of spotless white; Her soft blue eye now languishes, Now flashes with delight; Her hair is braided not for me, The eye is turned away; Yet, my heart, my heart is breaking For the love of Alice Gray.
I've sunk beneath the summer's sun, And trembled in the blast; But my pilgrimage is nearly done, The weary conflict's past: And when the green sod wraps my grave, May pity haply say, Oh! his heart, his heart is broken For the love of Alice Gray.
William Mee.