Why wentest thou a-roving?
Oh why so far from me?
Where cold ground unforgiving
And miles tarry thee.
Why went I not a-roving,
But by the flowing stream,
And flowers carefree blooming
I waited long for thee?
Too late I rose to follow
Late when the moon had set
And long the rains the morrow
Did on the road lament.
Then went I long a-roving
On paths that hidden lie
Among the stones a-whispering
Of glories long gone by.
Why wed I then a roving man,
A ranger of the wild?
Too long for me the rolling span
Of following thy stride.
Strange are the winds that wander
Above thy lonely grave
And strange my steps that falter
For thee I could not save.
Why go I now a-roving
Where lonesome wind does sigh
Among the trees a-murmuring
Beneath the solemn sky?
