DISCONTENT
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My sister, the red, red Rose,
My sister, the royal one,
The fairest flower that blows
Under the summer sun!
My sister, the royal one,
The fairest flower that blows
Under the summer sun!
What wonder that she is fair?
What wonder that she is sweet?
The treasures of earth and air
Lie at her dainty feet;
The choicest fare is hers,
Her cup is brimmed with wine;
Rich are her emerald robes,
And her bed is soft and fine.
What wonder that she is sweet?
The treasures of earth and air
Lie at her dainty feet;
The choicest fare is hers,
Her cup is brimmed with wine;
Rich are her emerald robes,
And her bed is soft and fine.
She need not lift her head
Even to sip the dew;
No rude touch makes her shrink
The whole long summer through.
Her servants do her will;
They come at her beck and call.
Oh, rare is life in my lady's bowers
Inside of the garden wall!
Even to sip the dew;
No rude touch makes her shrink
The whole long summer through.
Her servants do her will;
They come at her beck and call.
Oh, rare is life in my lady's bowers
Inside of the garden wall!
II.
(The Garden Rose speaks.)
The garden path runs east,
And the garden path runs west;
There's a tree by the garden gate,
And a little bird in a nest.
It sings and sings and sings!
Does the bird, I wonder, know
How, over the garden wall,
The bright days come and go?
And the garden path runs west;
There's a tree by the garden gate,
And a little bird in a nest.
It sings and sings and sings!
Does the bird, I wonder, know
How, over the garden wall,
The bright days come and go?
