My Dear Flower

Through the wallows of winter I did endure the sad eclipse of thy allure. My heart would not awaken to joy with the same tone, And all I loved, I loved alone. Yet as the blossom buds forth from snow, So my affection for thee doth only grow. And as spring hath ripened thy fruits so sweet, I ardently await the morn we meet. Mark the dawning of the fourteenth of May, When I shall gallop to you without delay And against the rising sun I shall race, That I may be the first to see thine face.