In the scented bud of the morning O

When the windy grass went rippling far

I saw my dear one walking slow

In the field where the daises are

We did not laugh and we did not speak

As we wandered happ'ly to and fro

I kissed my dear on either cheek

In the bud of the morning O

A lark sang up from the breezy land

A lark sang down from a cloud afar

As she and I went hand in hand

In the field where the daisies are