WHAT is day without the sun?
The night without the stars?
Ocean’s music would not run,
Without the sandy bars!
Summer days without a rose—
A fruitless Autumn would
Make the year a time of woes—
Like Spring without a bud.
What am I without my mate?
Without her bonny face?
A wanderer disconsolate—
A being out of place.
She is sun and stars to me—
The Spring, and Summer too;
Autumn’s fruit her love will be,
To sweeten all I do!
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