Rhapsody

My lady is sweet and tender, and the charm of her presence lingers

In the sunwarm room where she kisses my lips and goes;

And my cheeks are all a-glow with the touch of her dainty fingers,

And my lips are sealed for love of her, but she knows.

My lady is true and tender, ah! my heart is staunch and tender,

And I am weak and trustless as the wildest wind that blows.

But I love to watch my lady as I love to watch the splendour

That burns in regal glory, in the exquisite heart of the rose.