She's all my fancy painted her,
She's lovely, she's divine;
But her heart it is another's,
She never can be mine;
Yet lov'd I as man never lov'd,
A love without decay,
Oh! my heart, my heart is breaking
For the love of Alice Gray!
Her dark brown hair is braided
O'er a brow of spotless white;
Her soft blue eye now languishes,
Now flashes with delight;
Her hair is braided not for me,
The eye is turned away;
Yet, my heart, my heart is breaking
For the love of Alice Gray.
I've sunk beneath the summer's sun,
And trembled in the blast;
But my pilgrimage is nearly done,
The weary conflict's past:
And when the green sod wraps my grave,
May pity haply say,
Oh! his heart, his heart is broken
For the love of Alice Gray.
_William Mee_.