Chrysanthemum's Love Song.
Copyright, 1896, by K. M. Widmer.
By Henry Widmer.
Is it the zephyr whose musical voice
Toys with my tresses and bids me rejoice?
No, no, not Ah, not sot Ah, not so!
'Tis but a word from the youth of my choice,
'Tis but the name that be whispers to me
Under the shade of the plum-blossom tree,
That is the zephyr that makes me rejoice, that makes me rejoice.
'Tis a glance from the eye
Of the youth of my heart,
Who is child of the gods,
Who is king of my world;
On whose bosom I rest,
In whose arms I lie curled;
It is bliss when we meet,
It is death when we part, when we part.
Is it the swallow, the sweep of whose wing
Troubles the tremulous face of the spring?
No, no, not Ah, not so! Ah, not sot
What dimples the depths of the stream where I sing?
'Tis but the leaves of the lotus that fall,
Lightly to float on the ripples and call.
Cull on the name of my lover and king, my lover And king.- Chorus.