LOVE, MY MARY, DWELLS WITH THEE by THOMAS MOORE

@3He@1. -- Love, my Mary, dwells with thee,
On thy cheek his bed I see.
@3She@1. -- No, that cheek is pale with care --
Love can find no roses there.
@3Both@1. -- 'Tis not on the bed of rose,
Love can find the best repose:
In my heart his home thou'lt see,
There he lives. and lives for thee.

@3He@1. -- Love, my Mary, ne'er can roam,
While he makes that eye his home.
@3She@1. -- No, the eye with sorrow dim,
Ne'er can be a home for him.
@3Both@1. -- Yet 'tis not in beaming eyes,
Love for ever warmest lies;
In my heart his home thou'lt see,
There he lives, and lives for thee.

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