With breezes like drug-store perfumery.
I stood up in my stirrups, with my head
So deep in flowers they almost smothered me.
I kind o' liked to think that I was dead …
An' if I hed 'a' died like that to-day,
I'd 'a' be'n the happiest man in I-o-way.
For whut's the us't o' goin' on like this?
Your pa not 'lowin me around the place …
Well, fust I knowed, I'd give them blooms a kiss;
They tasted like Good-Night on your white face.