The Rose That All Are Praising

The Rose That All Are Praising
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The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for ine:
Too many eyes are gazing
Upon that costly tree,
But I’ve a rose in yonder glen
That shuns the gaze of other men,
For me its bossoin raising-
Oh, that’s the rose for me!
(Repeat last line for refrain)

The gem a king might covet
is not the yeni for me;
From darkness who would move it,
Save that the world might see?
But I’ven gem that shuns display,
And next my heart woin every day
So dearly do I love it-
Oh, that’s the gem for mel

Gay birds in cages pining
Are not the birds for met
Those plumes brightly shining
Would Lain fly off from thee
But I’ve a bird that gayly sings:
Thơ free to rove, she folds her wings,
For me her light resigning-
Oh, that’s the bird for me!