My sweet girl is as amber bright
My sweet girl is as amber bright
and Denmark’s wheat so golden,
her gaze as ocean-blue a sight
as skies when there beholden.
My princess Tove of Denmark!
My sweet girl’s smile’s a sun in May
and songs from lark’s throats pouring,
and dimples gently point the way
to gems her mind’s been storing –
My princess Tove of Denmark!
My sweet girl can at times be hard
to those she does not favour,
her tongue is then a keen-edged sword
whose bite makes keen men quaver.
My princess Tove of Denmark!
Her dimple goes behind a cloud,
her eye goes grey as ashes;
but then a smile once more breaks out,
blue waves her gaze then flashes.
My princess Tove of Denmark!
For if I look into those eyes,
they grow both warm and yielding.
Within her mind I then recline
as in two arms full-shielding.
My princess Tove of Denmark!
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