Shall I never more behold thee
Never hear thy laughing voice again
When the springtime comes gentle Annie
And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plains
We did love and roam midst the bowers
When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom
Now I walk alone midst the flowers
As they mingle their perfume o'er thy tomb
Shall we never more behold thee
Never hear thy laughing voice again
When the springtime comes gentle Annie
And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plains