They tremble, and blush, and sigh;
And the bonny daisy, so fresh, so sweet,
A tear in her golden eye,
Seemeth to me, in her gown of white,
More lovely than all the rest,
With the beauty of summer in her sight,
And its sunshine in her breast.
I own not one inch of the land, not I,
Nor jewels nor silks I wear,
Yet, free to roam ’neath the azure sky,