Page:Field Flowers (1896).djvu/18



Sweetheart, be my sweetheart In the golden summer glow Of the earth aflush with the gracious blush Which the ripening fields foreshow; Dear sweetheart, be my sweetheart, As into the noon we go.

Sweetheart, be my sweetheart. When falls the bounteous year, When the fruit and wine of tree and vine Give us their harvest cheer; O sweetheart, be my sweetheart, For winter it draweth near.

Sweetheart, be my sweetheart When the year is white and old. When the fire of youth is spent, forsooth, And the hand of age is cold; Yet, sweetheart, be mv sweetheart, Till the year of our love be told.