The Voice of Her I Love

How sweet at the close of silent eve,
The harp's responsive sound,
How sweet the vows that ne'er deceive
And deeds by virtue crown'd

How sweet to sit beneath a tree
In some delightful grove
But ah! more sweet, more dear to me
Is the voice of her I lov

The voice of her I love so dear,
The voice of her I love,
But ah! more sweet, more dear to me
Is the voice of her I love.

Whene'er she joins the village train,
To hail the new-born day,
Mellifluous notes compose each strain,
Which zephys waft away.
The frowns of fate I calmly bear,
In humble sphere I move,
Content and blest whene'er I hear
The voice of her I love.

From Sea Songs and Shanties by W. B. Whall (1910, 1912, 1913, 1920)