The gleam of rays from sun that sets,
Illumes her hair, a golden sheen.
A tint from chestnuts that begets
The brown for eyes, both bright and keen.
Her full, soft lips, a crimson red,
A color taken, season right,
From a rose when beautiful, now dead.
Behold her face -- a rare delight!
But now she's gone,
I'm all alone.
A beauty great of face and soul;
An open heart, with eagerness
To help, to satisfy, her goal.
Affectionate, with tenderness,
A lass so kind, so fond of fun.
So spirited, so filled with love
For all -- and only twenty-one!
But God, I'm told wants her above.
So now she's gone,
I'm all alone.