Many sweet flowers in the prairie shine,
And many in the wood;
But the fairest flower of all is mine,
My darling young Gertrude.
Her hazel eyes so roguish bright,
Pilled with her dear soul's radiant light
Her rosy, pouting lips invite
The long, warm kiss:
And yesterday, at last, I heard
From that sweet mouth the welcome word
That makes existence bliss:
My promised wife, star of my life,
My darling young Gertrude!
Many a bird in the prairie sings,
And many in the wood:
But none whose song so sweetly rings
As that of my Gertrude:
The happy day draws swiftly near,
When, trusting to my love sincere,
She will become tenfold more dear,—
That bright, glad day,
When in my loving, loyal arms,
Enfolding all her glowing charms,
A thousand times I'll say,
'My dear, sweet wife! star of my life!
My darling young Gertrude!'