Sighing Softly to the River - The Pirates Of Penzance

Major-Genral: Sighing softly to the river,

Comes the loving breeze;

Setting nature all a quiver,

Rustling thro' the trees-

Pirates & Police: Thro' the trees.

Major-Genral: And the brook, with rippling measure

Laughs for very love,

While the poplars, in their pleasure,

Wave their arms above.

Pirates & Police: Yes, the trees for very love,

Wave their leafy arms above.

All: River, river, little river,

May thy loving prosper ever,

Heaven speed thee poplar tree,

May thy wooing happy be,

Heaven speed thee poplar tress,

May thy wooing happy be!

Major-General: Yet, the breeze is but a rover;

When he wings a way!

Brook and poplar mourn a lover!

Sighing, «Well a day!»

Pirates & Police: «Well a day!»

Major-General: Ah, the doing and undoing

That the rogue could tell;

When the breeze is out a wooing,

Who can woo so well?

Pirates & Police: Shocking tales the rogue could tell,

Nobody can woo so well.

All: Pretty brook, thy dream is over,

For thy love is but a rover;

Sad the lot of poplar trees,

Courted by a fickle breeze,

Sad the lot of poplar trees,

Courted by a fickle breeze!