The Waving Willow

'Twas at the hour of day's decline, When, to the neighb'ring hills I went, To tie up many a drooping vine, By weight of purple clusters bent: That done—beneath a willow shade, Which o'er Beovia's river play'd. I sat and sung to the waving willow.

While there I mus'd, and watch'd the stream, A boat approach'd with lazy oar— Of love—ah! little did I dream, 'Till roguish Casper sprang on shore: A thousand vows he made me hear, And I believ'd them all sincere, While resting near the waving willow.

From that time, 'till I gave my hand, He ne'er would let me be at rest; At church he near me us'd to stand; With me to dance he always prest: And let me hope he'll mend at last, Nor force me to regret what pass'd While resting near the waving willow.