Annette, the tall lass;
A feeling which I cannot bear,
Its love so deep, Alas!
I’ve never felt a heart so mild,
Like hers, except of mine;
Her spirit high, her beauty wild,
The thought of her, divine
Denmark
| The Thought of Annette | |
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Wherefore am I jailed by her?
Annette, the tall lass; A feeling which I cannot bear, Its love so deep, Alas! I’ve never felt a heart so mild, Like hers, except of mine; Her spirit high, her beauty wild, The thought of her, divine |
| :: Stephen Attia
Denmark |
