Ballad.
They have giv'n her to another—
They have sever'd ev'ry vow;
They have giv'n her to another,
And my heart is lonely now;
They remember'd not our parting—
They remember'd not our tears,
They have sever'd in one fatal hour
The tenderness of years.
Oh! was it weal to leave me?
Thou couldst not so deceive me;
Lang and sairly shall I grieve thee,
Lost, lost Rosabel!
They have giv'n thee to another—
Thou art now his gentle bride;
Had I lov'd thee as a brother,
I might see thee by his side;
But I know with gold they won thee,
And thy trusting heart beguil'd;
Thy mother too, did shun me,
For she knew I lov'd her child.
Oh! was it weal to leave me?
Thou couldst not so deceive me;
Lang and sairly shall I grieve thee,
Lost, lost Rosabel!
They have giv'n her to another—
She will love him, so they say;
If her mem'ry do not chide her,
Oh! perhaps, perhaps she may;
But I know that she hath spoken
What she never can forget;
And tho' my poor heart be broken,
It will love her, love her yet.
Oh! was it weal to leave me?
Thou couldst not so deceive me;
Lang and sairly shall I grieve thee,
Lost, lost Rosabel!
From the Baltimore Visiter.
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