| She is watching by the poplars
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| Colinette with the sea-blue eyes
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| She is watching and longing, and waiting
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| Where the long white roadway lies
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| And a song stirs in the silence
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| As the wind in the boughs above
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| She listens and starts and trembles
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| 'Tis the first little song of love
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| Roses are shining in Picardy
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| In the hush of the silver dew
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| Roses are flowering in Picardy
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| But there’s never a rose like you!
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| And the roses will die with the summertime
|
| And our roads may be far apart
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| But there’s one rose that dies not in Picardy
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| 'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart
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| And the years fly on forever
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| Till the shadows veil their skies
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| But he loves to hold her little hands
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| And look into her sea-blue eyes
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| And she sees the road by the poplars
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| Where they met in the bygone years
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| For the first little song of the roses
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| Is the last little song she hears:
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| Roses are shining in Picardy
|
| In the hush of the silver dew
|
| Roses are flowering in Picardy
|
| But there’s never a rose like you!
|
| And the roses will die with the summertime
|
| And our roads may be far apart
|
| But there’s one rose that dies not in Picardy
|
| 'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart |