Classic Poem

How Sweet are Spring wild flowers that grow past the counting
How sweet are the wood paths that thread through the grove
But sweeter than all the wild flowers o' the mountain
Is the beauty that walks here The maiden I love
Her black hair in tangles
The Rose Briar mangles
Her lips and soft cheeks
Where Love ever speaks
Oh theres nothing so sweet as the maiden I love

2

It was down in these wild flowers Among brakes & brambles
I met the sweet maiden so dear to my eye
In one o' my Sunday morn midsummer rambles
Among the sweet wild blossoms blooming close by
Her hair it was coal black
Hung loose down her back
In her hand she held posies
Of blooming Primroses
The maiden who pass'd on the morning o' love

3

Coal black was her silk hair that shaded white shoulders
Ruby red were her ripe lips — cheeks o' softer hue
Her sweet smiles enchanting the eyes of beholders
Won my heart as she rambled the wild blossoms through
Like the pearl her bright eye
In trembling delight I,
Kisst her cheek like a rose
In its sweetest repose
Oh theres nothing so sweet as the maiden I love