Glow-worms On The Ground Are Moving, As

The Cloudlets Are Lazily Sailing O'er The Blue Atlantic Sea; And Mid The Twilight There Hovers A Shadowy Figure O'er Me.

The Blossoms And Leaves In Plenty From The Apple Tree Fall Each Day; The Merry Breezes Approach Them, And With Them Merrily Play.

The Eyes Of Spring, So Azure, Are Peeping From The Ground; They Are The Darling Violets, That I In Nosegays Bound.

The Fountain Of Love Is The Rose And The Lily, The Sun And The Dove.

Whatever Tears One May Shed, In The End One Always Blows One's Nose.