No jewelled beauty is my love, Yet in hor earnest face There's such a world oí tendernoss, She needs no other graco. Her smiles and voice arouud my Ufe ín light and music twine, And dear, oh, very dear to me Is this sweet love of mine ! Oh joy ! to know there's one foud haart Beats ever true to me ; It sets mine leaping like a Iyre, In sweetest melody. My soul upsprings, a deity ! To hear her voico divine, And denr, oh, very dear to me Is this sweet love of mine !. If ever I have sighed for wealth, 'Twas all for her I trow ; And if I win Fame's victor-wreath, I'll twine it on her brow. There may be forma more beautiful, And soiils of sunnier shine, But none, oh, none so dear to me As this sweot love of mine !