...armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy,...moving story— An old rude song that suited well That ruia wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For...

...armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my lay, Amid the lingering light. ''Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy...and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story— O ,~- J An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush,...

...armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Gencvieve! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful...

...armed man. The statue of the armed knight ; She »tood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light Few sorrows hath she of her own. My hope ! my joy ! my Geneviève ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and...

...and ah ! The deep, the low, the pleading tone, With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; And she forgave me that I gaz'd Too fondly on her face. But when I told the cruel scorn, That craz'd...

...armed man, The statue of the armed knight, She stood and listened to my lay Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath, she of her own, My hope! my joy!...flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; f For well she knew I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the knight that wore Upon...

...my lay Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Geneviève 1 eang an old and moving story — An old rude song that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened...

...: She stood and listened to my harp Amid the ling'ring light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, Sly hope , my joy , my Genevieve ! She loves me best ,...an old and moving story — An old rude song that fitted well The ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest...

...man, The statue of the armed knight ; She stood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light. " Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy,...whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. " I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...

...expression on the face. You remember the verse, " Few sorrows hath she of her own, My life, my love, my Genevieve ; She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve." To another friend she thus describes a piece of sculpture. After alluding to a painting of the same...