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the willow song - arthur sullivan lyrics

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the poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree
sing all a green willow:
her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee
sing willow, willow, willow:
the fresh streams ran by her, and murmur’d her moans;
sing willow, willow, willow;
her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;
sing willow, willow, willow;
sing all a green willow must be my garland
sing willow, willow, willow;
the fresh streams ran by her, and murmur’d her moans;
her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;
sing willow, willow, willow;
sing all a green willow must be my garland
sing willow, willow, willow;

- arthur sullivan lyrics

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