Thou art a flower, dear heart, a fragrant flower And I, the wandering, hair-clad, amorous bee. ‘Mongst all the regal beauties of the bower, I seek but thee. I feel the ivory of thy petals fair Brush lightly on my belly as I woo And I would sting
Thou art a flower, dear heart, a fragrant flower And I, the wandering, hair-clad, amorous bee. ‘Mongst all the regal beauties of the bower, I seek but thee. I feel the ivory of thy petals fair Brush lightly on my belly as I woo And I would sting
