Near the Banks of the Lone River
Near The Banks Of That– Lone River.
Near the banks of that lone river,
Where the water lilies grow,
Breathed the fairest flower that ever
Bloomed and faded years ago;
How we met and loved and parted,
None on earth can ever know,
Nor how pure and gentle hearted,
Beamed the mourn’d one, years age
Like the stream with lilies laden,
Will life’s future current flow,
Till in heaven I meet the maiden.
Fondly cherished years ago;
Hearts that love like mine forget not,
They’re the same in weal or woe
And that star of memory set not,
In the grave of years ago.