Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Irish minstrel

79
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battle was oVr; O whither,shecriedl,hast thou wander'cl,my trun love,Orwhere dost thou
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welter anj bleed on the shore? What voice wast 1 heardPHwas my Hon-rj. that cried! All
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mournful she hastend norwander'dshefar^^fhen bleed-ing a-lone on the heath she des_
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cried,By the light of the inoon,her poor Wonnd-ed Hussar
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From his bosom that heav'd the last torrent was str«anning
And pale was his visage, deep mark'd with a scar.
And dim was the eye once expressively beaming,
That melted in love and that kindled in war.
How smit was poor Adelaide's heart at the sight.
How bitter she wept oVr the victim of war]
Have you come, my fond love, this last sorrowful night.
To cheer the lone heart of your Wounded Hussar?"
Thou shalt live',' she replied; heaven's mercy, relieving
Each anguishing wound, shall forbid nie to niournT'
Ah. no; the last pang in my bosom is heaving.
No light of the morn shall to Henry return!
Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true,
Ye babes of my mourning that wait me afar'^
His faltering tongue scarcely murmured adieu,
When he sunk in her arms, the poor Wounded Hussar.
Campbell..