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I hung my head, my fault'ring tongue
In feeble murmurs spoke,
His specious art my bosom wrung,
I shudder'd at his look.
In feeble murmurs spoke,
His specious art my bosom wrung,
I shudder'd at his look.
And thus, bewilderd with my woes,
I faint and careless rove;
For oh! I cannot dwell with those
I must no longer love."
I faint and careless rove;
For oh! I cannot dwell with those
I must no longer love."
"Fair lady, calm that anxious heart,
And to my voice attend!
Thy father died by Hubert's dart,
And yet he was his friend.
And to my voice attend!
Thy father died by Hubert's dart,
And yet he was his friend.
For Lancaster Sir Philip rose,
And many a Yorkist slew;
Till, singling him amidst his foes,
Lord Hubert's arrow flew.
And many a Yorkist slew;
Till, singling him amidst his foes,
Lord Hubert's arrow flew.
