I had drawn upon the sand
her sweet smiling face
when it rained upon the beach
and in the storm, she vanished
and I cried, I cried, "Aline!" that she might return
and I wept, I wept, oh! how I ached
I sat myself beside her soul
but the lovely figure had fled
I searched for her in vain
and without a single hope to guide me
and I cried, I cried, "Aline!" that she might return
and I wept, I wept, oh! how I ached
I have nothing left but this sweet face
cast upon the wet sand like a shipwreck
and I cried, I cried, "Aline!" that she might return
and I wept, I wept, oh! how I ached
and I cried, I cried, "Aline!" that she might return
and I wept, I wept, oh! how I ached