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Out amongst her flowers sweet,
Lingers pretty Marguerite;
Sowing with her hands so white
Future blossoms fair and bright.
And the sunbeams lovingly
Kiss sweet Marguerite--for me.


Then I say, "Ah, Marguerite,
All my heart lies at your feet!
Turn it to a garden fair,
It shall blossom 'neath your care,
Till it yield for you alone
Wond'rous sweetness--all your own!"


Blushes deepen in her cheek
Ere the shy red lips can speak:
"Ah, but what if weeds should grow
'Mongst the flowers you bid me sow?"
"Love must pluck them out," I cry,
Growing bold with my reply.


Out amongst her flowers sweet
Lingered long my Marguerite,
Sowing with her own glad smile
"Heartsease" in my heart the while;
Till the sweetest flowers had grown
Blossoming for her alone.