In the harvest field there are three flowers,
These words said the flower of the vine:
I am the brightest in all the bowers,
I'm gathered for the church, and they say the red blood of
Christ is mine.
In the harvest field there are three flowers,
These words said the wee violet blue:
I am the brightest beneath the showers,
For the young maidens cull me to deck the hats of those they
love so true.