![]() | The Music of Stephen C. Foster . | ![]() |
69
MARY LOVES THE FLOWERS.
[1]
Mary loves the flowers!Ah! how happy they!
E'en their darkest hours,
To me were bright, bright summer day.
Receiving all her kisses,
Inhaling ev'ry sigh,
Ever fondly bending
Toward the radiance of her eye,
The lily and the morning glory,
Can they, can they die?
Mary loves the flowers!—
Ah! how happy they!
Een their darkest hours,
To me were bright, bright summer day.
2
Let no elfin fingerBlur from memory's sand
Her name—ah let it linger
While my airbuilt castles stand.
To feel her soft caressing,
Her ev'ry smile to see,
To bear her ardent blessing
Breathed in lute-toned melody.
To die beneath her tender care
Were life, were life to me.
Mary loves the flowers!
Ah! how happy they!
E'en their darkest hours,
To me were bright, bright summer day.
![]() | The Music of Stephen C. Foster . | ![]() |