The clover blossoms
C. Rogers
The clover blossoms kiss her feet,
She is so sweet!
While I who may not kiss her hand
Bless all the wild flowers in the land.
Soft sunshine falls across her breast,
She is so blest!
I'm jealous of its arms of gold,
Oh, that these arms her from might fold!
Gently the breezes kiss her hair,
She is so fair!
Let flowers and sun and breeze go by,
O dearest love, or I die!