Ruth was a laughing-eyed prattler,
Thoughtless, and happy, and free;
She planted a seed in the garden,
And said: “It will grow to a tree —
A beautiful blossoming tree.”
The birds and the squirrels played round it,
As careless and merry was she,
But not tree ever grew from her planting —
No beautiful blossoming tree.
Ruth was a winsome-faced maiden,
Happy, and hopeful, and free;
She planted a seed in the garden,
And smilingly waited to see —
A beautiful blossoming tree.
She covered the ground up with flowers,
The butterfly came, and the bee,
But no tree ever grew from her planting —
No beautiful blossoming tree.
Ruth was a pale saddened woman,
Thoughtful, with tremblings and fears,
She planted a seed in the garden,
And watered the place with her tears —
And watched it with tremblings and fears.
The winds and the rains beat upon it,
The lightnings flashed o'er it in glee;
But she sleeps‘ neath the tree of her planting —
A beautiful blossoming tree.