O, sweet and true, I hold your little hand,
And gaze down into eyes so bright and clear,
They seem to hold the summer's radiance, grand
With all the golden promise of the year.
I see in them the rest that wnnter gave,
And bud and blossom of the glorious spring,
The shim'ring light where summer cornfields wave,
And autumn’s stores that will such gladness bring.
How can I see all these, you ask? Ah, sweet,
Love holds for us all life can give to prize;
It makes its glory rounded and complete,
And love for me I see, dear, in your eyes.
