Jane Wilson

Sweet is the mild snowdrop that comes in the spring
When the homely drest hedge sparrow ventures to sing
The crocus how sweet looking-glass o' the sun
It opens and glitters when spring has begun
And the love light o' spring I in exstacy see
In the rich amber trails o' the grey willow tree
But sweeter and fairer than all that I see
Is the beautiful form of young Jenny to me.


How sweet flows the river that swells in the sun
Like billows o' gold they foam sparkle and run
How sweet the white thorn blossoms sprinkled wi' dew
How bright the kingfisher in orange and blue
How sweet the reeds rustle at evenings hour
When the rose hides the bee in the breast of the flower
But sweeter than reeds or the river to see
Is Jenny's sweet voice speaking kindly to me.


She speaks me so kind, when we rest in this place
And I feel my heart warm as I look in her face
The willow waves o'er us so dusky and grey
As we rest and admire the sweet close of the day,
I stoop to the river to pluck her a flower
And we hear the birds sing at days closing hour
But dearer than flowers or the birds unto me
Is Jenny the loved one — I love only thee —
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