The Willow Tree (John Rutter)

O take me to your arms, love
  for keen doth the wind blow,
O take me to your arms, love
  for bitter is my deep woe.

She hears me not, she heeds me not,
  nor will she listen to me.
While here I lie alone
  to die beneath the willow tree.

My love hath wealth and beauty,
  rich suitors attend her door.
My love hath wealth and beauty,
  she slights me because I’m poor.

The ribbon fair that bound her hair
  is all that is left to me.
While here I lie alone
  to die beneath the willow tree.

I once had gold and silver,
  I thought them without end.
I once had gold and silver,
  I thought I had a true friend.

My wealth is lost, my friend is false.
  my love hath he stolen from me.
While here I lie alone,
  to die beneath the willow tree.

Author: Owen Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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