ROSALIE.
Reading edition
I seek thy pleasant bower, My gentle Rosalie, To win its richest flower, And find that flower in thee. No more, though spring advances, I seek her shining train; I only meet thy glances, And my heart is young again.
Thou art the morn, fair creature, That wakes the birds and roses, Thine, is the living feature Where light and joy reposes. All day, young joy pursuing, I've found, when caught, that she Was the maid I had been wooing, The wild, young Rosalie.
When first the morning's lustre Lights up the fleecy plain, When first the shy stars cluster, When the moon begins to wane; Then do I seek thy bower, With a spirit fond and free, To win its richest flower, And find that flower in thee.
G. B. Singleton.