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298 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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I met her sowin' mushrooms
With her white feet in the grass; 'Twas eve—but mornin' in the smile
Of my sweet cailin deas ; An' I kissed her—oh, so secretly
That not a one should know — But the roguish stars they winked above
An' the daisies smiled below.
The Father in confession, Rose,
Won't count that love a sin That with a kiss taps at the heart
An' lets an angel in ; 'Twas so love entered into mine
An' made his dwellin' there — If that's a sin, the Lord forgive
Your beauty, Rose Adair !
If spring-time never came at all
To chase the winter's frown, Her smile would coax the flowers up
An' charm the sunshine down; There's not a perfumed breeze that blows
Or bird that charms the air, But stole its sweetness from the lips
Of lovely Rose Adair.
The leaves will fall in autumn,
An' the flowers all come to grief, But the green love in my heart of hearts
Will never shed a leaf! For the sunshine of your bonny eyes
Will keep it green and fair, An' your breath will be its breeze-o'-spring,
O lovely Rose Adair. |
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