Cream of Tannahill's Songs (3)/Ellen More
For other versions of this work, see Ellen More.
ELLEN MORE.
The sun had kissed green Erin's waves,The dark blue mountains towered between,Mild evening's dews refreshed the leaves,The moon, unclouded, rose serene:When Ellen wandered forth unseen,All lone her sorrows to deplore;False was her lover, false her friend,And falso was hope to Ellen More.
Young Henry was fair Ellen's love,Young Emma to her heart was dear,Nor weal nor woe did Ellen prove,But Emma ever seemed to share:Yet envious still, she spread the wileThat sullied Ellen's virtues o'er;Her faithless Henry spurned the while,His fair, his faithful Ellen More.
She wandered down Loch-Mary side,Where oft at evening hour she stoleTo meet her love with secret pride;Now deepest anguish wrung her soul.O'ercome with grief she sought the steep,Where Yarrow falls with sullen roar;Oh! Pity, veil thy eyes and weep,A bleeding corpse lies Ellen More.
The sun may shine on Yarrow braes,And woo the mountain flowers to bloom,But never can his golden raysAwake the flower in yonder tomb.There oft young Henry strays forlorn,When moonlight gilds the abbey tower;Thero oft from eve till breezy morn,He weeps his faithful Ellen More.