Westphalian song

Westphalian song

[The following is an almost literal translation
of a very old and very favourite song among the
Westphalian Boors. The turn at the end is the same
with one of Mr. Dibdin's excellent songs, and
the air to which it is sung by the Boors is remarkably sweet and lively.]

When thou to my true-love com'st
Greet her from me kindly;
When she asks thee how I fare?
Say, folks in Heaven fare finely.

When she asks, "What! Is he sick?"
Say, dead!--and when for sorrow
She begins to sob and cry,
Say, I come to-morrow.

-THE END-
Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem: Westphalian song

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