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My
love to my bride with dear caresses,
And pride, shall ever be shown,
Each virtue most rare her soul possesses,
And fair and sweet has she grown.
My thoughts used to rove in boyish folly
Ere ever her love I had known,
But now I'm her own,
My heart is wholly My Darling's alone, alone.
Where woodlands are green with trees well nourished
A scene of beauty to view,
I found with delight one stem that flourish'd,
Of bright and beautiful hue:
That bough from above, desiring greatly
With love unto me I drew;
None else could have mov'd that tree
so stately 'Twas only for that me it grew.
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