"They Buried Her Under the Old Elm Tree" (1855)
companion to
"Oh Scorn Not Thy Brother"
Words by Sarah T(ittle). (Barrett) Bolton
[18 Dec 1814 - 4 Aug 1893)
Music by Joseph Philbrick Webster (1819-1875)

Boston: HENRY TOLMAN, 219 Washington St.
Chicago: Higgins Bros.
J. Slinglandt, Engraver & Printer
[Source: @Indiana Library]

1. Here’s the path by the long deserted mill,
And the stream by the old bridge, broken still,
And the golden willow boughs bending low,
To the green sunny banks where the violets blow;
The wild birds are singing the same sweet lays,
That charm’d me in dreams of the dear old days,
When Lora, my beautiful, sat with me,
On the moss grown seat ’neath the Old Elm Tree.

2. It was here with the bright blue sky above,
I told her the tale of my heart’s true love,
And here ere the blossoms of summer died,
She whisppered the promise to be my bride;
And here fell the tears of our parting, sore,
Ah! little we dream’d we should meet no more,
And that ere I came from the far blue sea,
They would make her grave ’neath the Old Elm Tree.

3. Oh! cruel and false was the tale they told,
That my vows were false, my old love cold,
That my truant heart held another dear,
Forgetting the vows that were whispered here;
Then her cheek grew pale with the crushed heart’s pain,
And her beautiful lips never smiled again,
And she bitterly wept where none could see,
She wept for the past ’neath the Old Elm Tree.

4. She died, and they parted her sunny hair,
On the cold pale brow death had left so fair,
And they laid her to rest where the sweet young flowers,
Would watch by her side through the summer hours,
Oh! Lora, dear Lora, my heart’s last love,
Will we meet in the angels' home above?
Earth holds not a treasure so dear to me,
As the lonely grave ’near the Old Elm Tree.