And soothe the bitter agony
That’s tearin’ at my breast.
How can ye march at all, at all,
And the wild, wild waves at play,
And the boy who loved ye lying cold—
Close to Manila Bay?
Teresa Beatrice O’Hare.
And soothe the bitter agony
That’s tearin’ at my breast.
How can ye march at all, at all,
And the wild, wild waves at play,
And the boy who loved ye lying cold—
Close to Manila Bay?
Teresa Beatrice O’Hare.