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As the blackbird in the spring |
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'neath the willow tree |
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sat and piped |
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I heard him sing |
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praising Aura Lee. |
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Aura Lee! Aura Lee! Maid of golden hair |
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sunshine came along with thee and swall-ows in the air. |
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Take my heart and take my ring |
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I give my all to thee |
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take me for eternity |
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dearest Aura Lee! |
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Aura Lee ! Aura Lee . . . |
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In her blush the rose was born |
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'twas music when she spoke |
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in her eyes |
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the light of morn |
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sparkling seemed to break. |
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Aura Lee! Aura Lee . . . |
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Aura Lee |
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the bird may flee the willow' golden hair |
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then the wintry winds may be blowing ev'rywhere. |
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Yet if thy blue eyes I see |
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gloom will soon depart |
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for to me |
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sweet Aura Lee is sunshine to the heart. |