Charles Hubert Hastings Parry - Willow, willow, willow - текст песни (слова)

Desdemona: The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, 
Sing all a green willow: 
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, 
Sing willow, willow, willow: 
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans; 
Sing willow, willow, willow; 
Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones; 

 [Lay by these:--]1 

 Sing willow, willow, willow; 

 [Prithee, hie thee; he'll come anon:-- ]1 

 Sing all a green willow [must be my garland.]1 
Sing all a green willow; 
[Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve,-- ]1 
Nay, that's not next.--Hark! who is't that knocks?  

 Emilia: [ It's the wind. ]1 

 Desdemona: Sing willow, willow, willow, 
I call'd my love false love; but what said he then?  
Sing willow, willow, willow: 
[If I court moe women, you'll couch with moe men!]1 
Sing willow, willow, willow. 

  Notes:  1 This text not set by Parry.