The Balm O Care is Woman

How pleasant is the evening walk With one kind hearted Lassie
How pleasant is a womans talk In places green and grassy
The salt of life the balm o care Is woman to man ever
They live the fairest of the fair And leave them will I never.

Theres raptures in their bright bright eyes The flowers hang drops O dew
Their faces and their talk I prize — I love and kiss them through
I kiss them through their cheeks O roses I kissed them through their lips and eyes
They're all that happiness supposes In them the art of pleasing lies.
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