John Hill Hewitt - The Dreams of Early Youth Have Fled

1.
The dreams of early youth have fled
The joy-pulse of my heart is dead;
E'en Hope, which once my spirit fed,
Now droops and fades away.
Or, let me seek the silent dell,
And to the lonely brooklet tell
My story of our last farewell,
My lost, lost Ellen Gray.

REFRAIN
My first, my only love who sleeps
Down where the sombre i vy creeps
Around the willow as it weeps
O'er the grave of Ellen Gray.

2.
When sunshine bless'd life's early hours
When songs of joy fill'd beauty's bowers,
When every path was strewn with flowers,
There came a darksome day,
Death shadow'd Ellen cottage door.
Angels her spotless spirit bore
To realms of light­­ I never more
Will see my Ellen Gray.

REFRAIN
My first, my only love who sleeps
Down where the sombre i vy creeps
Around the willow as it weeps
O'er the grave of Ellen Gray.