O Genevieve, I'd give the world To live again the lovely past! The rose of youth was dew-impearl'd, But now it withers in the blast. I see thy face in ev'ry dream, My waking thoughts are full of thee, Thy glance is in the starry beam That falls along the summer sea!

Fair Genevieve, my early love! The years but make thee dearer far. My heart shall never, never rove; Thou art my only guiding star. For me the past has no regret. Whate'er the years may bring to me I bless the hour when first we met, The hour that gave me love and thee!

Chorus: O Genevieve, Sweet Genevieve, The days may come, the days may go, But still the hands of mem'ry weave The blissful dreams of long ago.

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