E'en as a lovely flower,
So fair, so pure thou art;
I gaze on thee, and sadness Comes stealing o'er my heart. My hands I fain had folded Upon thy soft brown hair,
Praying that God may keep thee So lovely, pure and fair.
E'en as a lovely flower,
So fair, so pure thou art;
I gaze on thee, and sadness Comes stealing o'er my heart. My hands I fain had folded Upon thy soft brown hair,
Praying that God may keep thee So lovely, pure and fair.