I’d offer Thee this Hand of Mine.
I’d offer thee this hand of mine
If I could love thee less,
But hearts as warm and pure as thine
Should never know distress.
My fortune is too hard for thee,
’Twould chill thy dearest joys;
I’d rather weep to see thee free,
Than win thee to destroy.
I’d offer thee, &c.
I’ll leave thee in thy happiness
As one too dear to love;
As one I think on but to bless
As wretchedly I rove;
And oh! when sorrow’s cup I drink
All bitter though it be,
How sweet t’will be for me to think
It holds no drop for thee.
I’d offer thee, &c.
But now my dreams are sadly o’er,
Fate bids them all depart,
And I must leave my native shore
In brokenness of heart;
And oh! dear one, when far from thee,
I’ll ne’er know joy again;
I would not that one thought of me
Should give thy bosom pain.
I’d offer thee, &c.