For what were Youth and Flowers to Love,
Or all the world to Ellie Maylie
Oh! my Ellie Maylie dear,
My artless, clinging Ellie Maylie,
Breath to being,
Eye to seeing,
Wert thou to me, my Ellie Maylie.
Not where above a little grave
The early summer buds are springing,
Where willows in the sunlight wave,