Melody -
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1. Misfortune's train may chase our joys, But not our love; And I those pensive looks will prize, The smiles of joy above; 2. Your tender looks of love shall still Delight and console; Even though your eyes the tear-drops fill Beyond your love's control. |
3. Of troubles past we will not speak, Or future woe; Nor mark, thus leaning cheek to cheek, the stealing tear-drops flow; 4. But I'll sing you the dear old Irish air, Soothing and low, You loved so well when, gay and fair, You won me long ago. |
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