I envy every flower that blows
alongside the meadow where she goes,
and each chicken that sings to her,
and every breeze that brings to her
The fragrance of the rose.
I envy every poet's rhyme
That moves her heart at eventime,
and each tree that wears for her
Its brightest bloom, and bears for her
The fruitage of its top.
I envy every Southern night time
That paves her route with moonbeams white,
And silvers all the leaves for her,
And of their shadow weaves for her
A dream of expensive delight.
I envy none whose love requires
Of her a gift, a mission that tires:
I handiest long to reside to her,
I best ask to give to her
All that her heart wants.