Oh,
my heart is weary waiting,
waiting for the May,
Waiting for the pleasant rambles
Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles
With the woodbine alternating
Scent the dewy way
Oh, my heart is weary waiting,
waiting for the one.
Oh, my heart is sick with longing,
longing for the man,
longing to escape from study
To the young face fair and ruddy,
An d the thousand charms belonging
To the summer's day.
Oh, my heart is sick with longing,
long ing for the man.
Oh, my heart is so well sighing,
sighing for the May,
sighing for the sure returning
when the summer beams are burning.
Hopes and flowers that did all die
in all the winter lay.
Oh, my heart is so well -sighing,
Waiting sad, dejected, weary,
waiting for the mail,
Spring goes by with wasted warnings,
Moonlight evenings,
sun bright mornings.
Summer comes, yet dark and dreary,
Life still ebbs away.
The man who's ever weary, weary,
waiting for the man.
You