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