Soft Oer The Fountain


Soft o’er the fountain,
Ling’ring falls the southern moon;
Far o’er the mountain
Breaks the day too soon!
In thy dark eyes’ splendor,
Where the warm light loves to dwell,
Weary looks, yet tender,
Speak their fond farewell,
Nita! Juanita!
Ask thy soul if we should part!
Nita! Juanita!
Lean thou on my heart.

When in thy dreaming
Moons like these shall shine again,
And daylight beaming
Prove thy dreams are vain,
Wilt thou not, relenting,
For thine absent lover sigh?
In thy heart consenting
To a pray’r gone by?
Nita! Juanita!
Let me linger by thy side!
Nita Juanita!
Be my own fair bride.