Oh, take me to your arms, love, for we, alas! must part; Oh, take me to your arms, love, the pain is at my heart. She hears me not, she cares not, but coldly keeps from me, While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree. My love has blooming beauty, my cheek is deadly wan; My love has countless riches, my gallant fortunes’s gone. This ribbon fair, that bound her hair, is all that’s left to me, While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree. I once had gold and silver I thought would never end: I once had gold and silver, and I thought I had a friend: My wealth is sped, my friend is fled and stol’n my love from me; While here I lie, alone to die, beneath the willow tree.
- by Alfred Perceval Graves (1846 - 1931) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924), "The willow tree", published [1882?] [voice and piano], from the collection Songs of Old Ireland. A Collection of Fifty Irish Melodies Unknown in England, no. 44, arrangement ; London, Boosey & Co. ; dedicated to Johannes Brahms, August 1882 [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Mike Pearson
This text was added to the website: 2015-04-08
Line count: 12
Word count: 140