My lady is sweet and tender, and the charm of her presence lingers
In the sunwarm room where she kisses my lips and goes;
And my cheeks are all a-glow with the touch of her dainty fingers,
And my lips are sealed for love of her, but she knows.

My lady is true and tender, ah ! my heart is staunch and tender,
And I am weak and trustless as the wildest wind that blows.
But I love to watch my lady as I love to watch the splendour
That burns in regal glory, in the exquisite heart of the rose.