Sweet Genevieve

Henry Tucker, 1869

Oh Genevieve, I'd give the world To live again the lovely past! The rose of youth was dew-impearled But now it withers in the blast. Chorus: Oh Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, The days may come, the days may go But still the hands of mem'ry weave The blissful dreams of long ago 2. I see thy face in ev'ry dream, My waking tho'ts are full of thee Thy glance is in the starry beam That falls along the summer sea.