THE QUEEN OF ALL FLOWERS.
As sung by Tony Hart
Where the flowers all grow in the dell,
There blooms in a moss-covered cot,
A sweet little bud they call Nell,
Who's acknowledged the queen of the lot.
For when she walks over the dale,
All the pinks sure with envy turn green;
Her cheeks make the roses look pale,
All the blossoms bow down to this queen.
She's as fair as a flower, and delicate, too,
Her eyes are like violets, so tender and true;
Her soul pure as snowdrops, her heart just as true,
And I call her the queen of all flowers.
Sure the bumble-bee lights on her lips,
And goes wild o'er the honey he's found;
And sits there and sips, sips and sips,
'Till he tumbles dead drunk to the ground.
Arrah, what is the use for to talk?
The hot-house buds turn nearly wild,
The wild flowers die on their stalk,
If at them she would just only smile.-Chorus.