The Little Red Ribbon

The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose!
The summer-time comes, and the summer-time goes--
And never a blossom in all of the land
As white as the gleam of her beckoning hand!

The long winter months, and the glare of the snows;
The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose!
And never a glimmer of sun in the skies
As bright as the light of her glorious eyes!

Dreams only are true; but they fade and are gone--
For her face is not here when I waken at dawn;
The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose
Mine only; hers only the dream and repose.

I am weary of waiting, and weary of tears,
And my heart wearies, too, all these desolate years,
Moaning over the one only song that it knows,--
The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose!