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the columbine - george whitefield chadwick lyrics

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g*y in her red gown, trim and fine
dances the merry columbine

never she thinks if her petals shall fall;
cold rains beating she does not dread;
sunshine is round her and spring birds call
blue are the skies above her head

so in her red gown, trim and fine
merrily dances the columbine
blithe with her white throat, smooth and fine
dances the careless columbine

if she coquеts with the wandering bee
when hе goes does she toss her head;
heart*whole and frolicsome still is she
lovers enough she finds instead

so with her white throat smooth and fine
carelessly dances the columbine
bright in her coronet, golden and fine
dances the mocking columbine

g*y is she still, whatsoever befall
loveless wanton, on pleasure bent;
now is her moment, her day, her all;
where will she be when it is spent?
then will be dust all her coronet fine;
dust, only dust, mocking columbine

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