Classic Poem

Blue is the summer morning's sky,
And birds are glad and merry.
And Anna's eyes are sweet and sly,
Her cheeks like any cherry; —
Her lips like dewy rosebuds are
Upon the gladsome morning.
She is my love, my heart's glad star,
In spite of all her scorning.

So fill the cup of gladness up
And drink to youth and morning.
Let sadness go with evening sup,
I'm hers for all her scorning.