#301 - The Girl I Left Behind Me

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• Composer:
  • traditional Irish
  • arr. Samuel Lover (1797-1868), c1850
• Also known as:
  • The Girl I Left Behind
  • Brighten Camp
  • The Rambling Laborer
  • The Spailpin Fanach
• MIDI | show
  
• Parsons Code: XDDDDRDDUURRUUUUDDUDDDDRDDUDDD¹⁾
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• Lyrics:
  I'm lonesome since I cross'd the hills,
  And o'er the moor that's sedgy;
  With heavy thoughts my mind is fill'd,
  Since I parted with my Naggy
  When e'er I return to view the place,
  The tears doth fall and blind me,
  When I think on the charming grace
  Of the girl I left behind me.
  
  The hours I remember well,
  When next to see doth move me,
  The burning flames my heart doth tell,
  Since first she own'd she lov'd me:
  In search of some one fair and gay,
  Several doth remind me;
  I know my darling loves me well,
  Tho' I left her behind me.
  
  The beas shall lavish, mare no store
  And the dove become a ranger;
  The falling water cease to roar,
  Before I'll ever change her:
  Each mortal promise faithful made,
  By her whose tears doth blind me;
  And bless the hours I pass away,
  With the girl I left behind me.
  
  My mind her image still retains,
  Whether asleep or waking;
  I hope to see my dear again,
  For her my heart is breaking:
  But if e'er I chance to go that way,
  And that she has not resign'd me;
  I'll reconcile my mind and stay,
  With the girl I left behind me.
  
  
  • from Charms of Melody, c1805
• Lyrics:
  The hour was sad I left the maid,
  A ling'ring farewell taking;
  Her sighs and tears my steps delayed,
  I thought her heart was breaking;
  In hurried words her name I blessed,
  I breath'd the vows that bind me,
  And to my heart in anguish pressed
  The girl I left behind me.
  
  Then to the South we bore away,
  To win a name in story,
  And there where dawns the sun of day,
  There dawned our sun of glory;
  Both blazed in noon on Freedom's height,
  Where in the post assigned me,
  I shared the glory of that fight,
  Sweet girl I left behind me.
  
  Full many a name our banners bore,
  Of former deeds of daring,
  But they were days of Seventy-Six,
  In which we had no sharing;
  But now our laurels freshly won,
  With the old ones shall entwined be,
  Still worthy of our sires each son,
  Sweet girl I left behind me.
  
  The hope of final victory,
  Within my bosom burning,
  Is mingling with sweet thoughts of thee,
  And of my fond returning;
  But should I ne'er return again,
  Still worth thy love thou'lt find me,
  Dishonor's breath shall never stain
  The name I'll leave behind me.
  
  
  • Samuel Lover (1797-1868), c1850