Poor Drooping Maiden |
Stephen Foster, 1860
Poor drooping maiden sighing On a bright bright summer's day Alone in sorrow all day long, Thine eyes from light, Thine ears from song; Why are thy frail hands Toiling the ours away? Found in a dreary home, Bound to a weary doom Why are thy frail hands Toiling the hours away! Chorus: |: Poor drooping maiden sighing On a bright bright summer's day. :| | 2. Poor drooping maiden sighing On a bright bright summer's day The birds are out with songs and glee And gladness lurks in bush and tree Where is thy pure voice That once was so light and gay? Come roam the laughing hills! Come see the dancing rills! Where is thy pure voice That once was so light and gay? Chorus:
3. Poor drooping maiden sighing |