The Cliffs of Old Tynemouth
Oh! the cliffs of old Tynemouth they're wild and they're sweet,
And dear are the waters that roll at their feet;
And the old ruined abbey it ne'er shall depart;
Tis the star of my fancy, the home of my heart.
Oh 'twas there that my childhood fled cheerful and gay,
There I loitered the morning of boyhood away,
And now as I wander the old beach alone,
The waves seem to whisper the names that are gone.
'Twas there with my Alice I walked hand-in-hand,
While the wild waves in moonlight leapt o'er the bright sand;
And sweet were the echoes of the dark cliffs above,
But oh, sweeter her voice as she murmered her love.
Other hands may be fairer, but naught can be seen,
Like the shore where our first love and boyhood have been;
Oh! give me the cliffs and the wild roaring sea,
The cliffs of old Tynemouth for ever for me.
Dr. Lietch.
Broadsheet about 1843