That rests on its beauty all the day.
Let it joy awhile in the breeze and sun,
A lovely trifler to look upon;
Our’s is the Vine that, with worthier pride,
Gems with its fruit the fair hill-side!
Our’s is the Vine! Our’s is the Vine!
Our’s is the source of the rich red wine!
Flowers may be fair on the maiden’s brow—
Streams may be bright in their sunny flow—
But dearer to us is the joyous spell