I hear sweet music, rich gowns I wear,
I live in splendour and state;
But I'd give it all to be young once more,
And steal through the old low-lintelled door,
To watch at the orchard gate.
There are flowers by thousands these ball-rooms bear,
Fair blossoms, wondrous and new;
But all the flowers that a hot-house grows
I would give for the scent of a certain rose
That a cottage garden grew!
Oh, diamonds that sparkle on bosom and hair,
Oh, rubies that glimmer and glow—
I am tired of my bargain and tired of you!
I would give you all for a daisy or two
From a little grave I know.