The Banks of The Dee
It was summer so softly the breezes were blowing,
And sweetly the nightingale sung from each tree,
At the foot of the rock where the river was flowing,
I sat myself down on the banks of the Dee.
Flow on lovely Dee flow on thou sweet river,
Thy banks purest heams shall be dear to me ever,
It was there I first gained the affection and favor,
Of James -- the glory and pride of the Dee.
But now he is gone from me and left me a mourning,
To quell the proud Spaniards so valiant is he,
And yet there's no hope of his speedy returning,
To wander again on the banks of the Dee.
He's gone hapless youth over the loud roaring billows
The sweetest and kindest of all the brave fellows,
And had left me to morn amongst the green willows,
The loneliest maid on the banks of the Dee.
But time and my prayers may perhaps yet restore him,
Blest peace may restore the dear shepherd to me,
And when he comes home with such care I'll watch over him,
He never shall quit the sweet banks of the Dee.
The Dee then shall flow all its beauties displaying,
The lambs on its banks shall again be seen playing,
Whilst I with my Jamy am carelessly straying,
And tasting again all the sweets of the Dee.