In the scented bud of the morning O
When the windy grass went rippling far!
I saw my dear one walking slow
In the field where the daises are
We did not laugh, and we did not speak
As we wandered happ'ly, to and fro
I kissed my dear on either cheek
In the bud of the morning O!
A lark sang up, from the breezy land
A lark sang down, from a cloud afar
As she and I went, hand in hand
In the field where the daisies are