Fly Away Sweet Dove
Fly away to my native land, sweet dove.
Fly away to my native land,
And hear those lines to the lady I love,
I've traced with a feeble hand
Oh, fly to her bower and say, sweet dove,
That the chain of the tyrant
Is over me now.
I never can mount my steed again
With the helmet upon my brown.
No solace I feel in my dungeon
Except when your voice is heard,
And you beat the bars
With your snowy wings.
Then fly to her bower sweet dove
She marvels much at my long delay,
Or perhaps your voice she hath heard.
She may have thought I have
Then fly to her bower, sweet dove.
I can live in my dungeon
And waste away youth,
I can fall at the conquerer's sound.
But I cannot endure
Should she doubt my truth,
Then fly to her bower sweet dove.