That droops when its heaven, thy love, grows cold;
That shrinks from the wick’d, the false, and bold;
That blooms for thee only, through sunlight and shower.
Call me pet names, darling—call me a flower.
Call me dear names, darling—call me thine own;
Speak to me always in love’s low tone;
Let not thy look nor thy voice grow cold;
Let my fond worship thy being enfold;
Love me forever, and love me alone;
Call me pet names, darling—call me thine own.