Hark! thou art in this momment, br Dancin' in love and merriment, br On the bosom of a lone land, br When my life in such a futile sand, br Trying slowly to commence br All its worries to condense br Oh! wilt thou bloom in my garden; br To bring that glorious spring br Unto my life this time, 's if Eden. br Beloved! singest thou a love-song br To ease all my woelful burden. br Lo! roses bloom on our bosom, br But we're loved by only some br And then in dreams we breathe in br Until they erode all our corlas in vain.