Off on the prairie, where the balmy air br Kisses the waving corn, br There lives a farmer, with a daughter fair-- br Fair as a summer's morn! br She has a nature gentle as a dove, br Pure as the mountain snows; br Say! is it strange that everyone should love-- br Love such a girl as Rose? br br Beautiful Rose! lovely Rose! br Pride of the prairie bower! br Everybody loves her--everybody knows br She is the fairest flower. br br Rose is a lady yet from early dawn, br Labors her skillful hand; br She is the housewife, now her mother's gone-- br Gone to the better land. br Rose has the beauty--father has the gold-- br Both will be hers one day; br For she is young, while he is growing old-- br Old people pass away. br br Clerks from the city, plowmen from the field, br Lords from a foreign land; br Each in their turn have very humbly kneeled-- br Kneeled for her heart and hand. br But to them all she made the same reply-- br Kindly but firmly, "No!" br And none but I can tell the reason why-- br Why she should treat them so.