Gentle Annie (Stephen Foster)

Thou wilt come no more gentle Annie
Like the flower, who's spirit did depart
Who has come and gone like the many
Who have bloomed in the springtime of my heart
Shall I never more behold thee?
Never hear thy laughing voice again
When the springtime comes gentle Annie
And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plains
We did love and roam midst the bowers
When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom
Now I walk alone midst the flowers
As they mingle their perfume o'er thy tomb
Shall we never more behold thee?
Never hear thy laughing voice again
When the springtime comes gentle Annie
And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plains