Songs From The Beggar’s Opera: Air Xvi-“over The Hills, And Far Away” - Poem by John Gay
Mac. Were I laid on Greenland’s coast,
And in my arms embraced my lass,
Warm amidst eternal frost,
Too soon the half-year’s night would pass.
Polly. Were I sold on Indian soil,
Soon as the burning day was closed,
I could mock the sultry toil
When on my charmer’s breast reposed.
Mac. And I would love you all the day,
Polly. Every night would kiss and play,
Mac. If with me you’d fondly stray
Polly. Over the hills, and far away.
Comments about Songs From The Beggar’s Opera: Air Xvi-“over The Hills, And Far Away” by John Gay
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.