there is dew for the flow’ret

and honey for the bee,

and bowers for the wild bird,

and love for you and me.

there are tears for the many

and pleasures for the few;

but let the world pass on, dear,

there’s love for me and you.

there is care that will not leave us,

and pain that will not flee;

but on our hearth unalter’d

sits love —‘tween you and me.

our love it ne’er was reckon’d,

yet good it is and true,

it’s half the world to me, dear,

it’s all the world to you.