And that’s what we mean when we say that a thing
Is as welcome as flowers that bloom in the Spring.
The blushes that bloom on her cheek, tra la,
Are painted the men to deceive;
If you doubt, just notice this week, tra la,
When her curls on your arm a rest seek, tra la,
How the blushes will soil your coat-sleeve.
And that’s what we mean when we angrily speak:
A brush for the blushes that bloom on her cheek.
The flour that blooms in the spring, tra la,