I've roamed the wide world over,

I've roamed the wide world over,
From Indus to the Pole;
I've been a general lover,
And loved with all my soul;
 Whate'er her height, hair dark or light,
 Confined, or flowing free;
Eyes, azure bright, or black as night,
'Twas all the same to me.
Whatever flowers are springing,
 My bosom's tares above,
 Whatever thoughts are clinging
To my heart, of peace and love,—
Were planted there by Woman's care,
 And nurtured 'neath her eye:
To her I clung, when life was young;
 Be hers my latest sigh!
 In our hours of pain and sorrow,
 No balm is like her tear;
 Even our joys more sweetness borrow,
 When she we love is near!
 Then fill me up a brimming cup,
To drink to Woman's worth;
 And may she prove in heaven above,
 The bliss she makes on earth!