Have you seen but a bright lily grow Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fall of snow Before the soil has smutched it? Have you felt the wool of beaver Or swan's down ever? Or have smelt of the bud of the brier Or the nard in the fire? Or have tasted the bag of the bee? Oh so white, Oh so soft, Oh so sweet is she So sweet is she!
Oh so white, Oh so soft, Oh so sweet is she So sweet is she!