Do not cry, my dear, my sweet,
Another fellow you shall meet.
With manners and a handshake greet
Then you'll begin to feel complete.

But Mother, Mother, understand;
My time has not now come at hand,
He'll never be gone in my mind's land
For he infiltrates all my plans.

But darling, dear, a brand new face
From your mind will he erase
And retreat at his fastest pace
To live in a cold, dark, lonely place.

But Mother, see, he's done no wrong,
Although his visit did prolong.
I see him in every sainted throng
And wait for him, though the wait is long.

My sweet rosebud, why do you wait?
When another, you will take?
Don't you try to change your fate
For fear of looking like a fake.*

Mother dear, my guardian still,
You believe I've had my fill
But his memory leaves a cold, stone chill
Which can be relieved from no magic pill.