The man of my heart's own choice,
Doth make my soul rejoice;
He is wondrous fair,
With gold-burnished hair,
And a kind and winsome voice.
He has the classic brow of a sage,
And his life is a clean, white page;
And naught will he do,
To make him blush to
Reflect on it in old age.
His eyes are like Heaven's own blue,
And his heart is just as true;
And he loves me, oh,
And his children, so!
There is naught for us he would not do.
He is not very great in size,
But he is, oh, so very wise;
And there is naught to compare
With the light that shines there,
In those luminous soul-lit eyes.