I have watched her bud and blossom,
Watched the dimpled child mature;
Watched her till my heart beat wildly,
Till my soul grew strangely troublous,
Till I grew depressed and fretful,
With a nameless dread and sorrow,
And I understood it not.
And I wearied soon without her,
Wearied soon without Roberta,
My sweet blossom, my Roberta,