The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose! The summer-time comes, and the summer-time goes- And never a blossom in all of the land As white as the gleam of her beckoning hand!
The long winter months, and the glare of the snows; The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose! And never a glimmer of sun in the skies As bright as the light of her glorious eyes!
Dreams only are true; but they fade and are gone- For her face is not here when I waken at dawn; The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose _Mine_ only; _hers_ only the dream and repose.
I am weary of waiting, and weary of tears, And my heart wearies, too, all these desolate years, Moaning over the one only song that it knows,- The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose!
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