O Vere Mine Lofe A Sugar-Powl, De Fery Shmallest Loomp Vouldt Shveet De Seas, From Pole To Pole, Und Make De Shildren Shoomp. Und If She Vere A Clofer-Field, I'd Bet My Only Pence, It Vouldn'T Pe No Dime At All Pefore I'd Shoomp De Fence. Her Heafenly Foice, It Drill Me So, It Oft-Dimes Seems To Hoort, She Ish De Holiest Anamile Dat Roons Oopon De Dirt. De Renpow Rises Vhen She Sings, De Sonnshine Vhen She Dalk; De Angels Crow Und Flop Deir Vings Vhen She Goes Out To Valk. So Livin White, So Carnadine, Mine Lofe'S Gomblexion Show; It's Shoost Like Abendcarmosine, Rich Gleamin On De Shnow. Her Soul Makes Plushes In Her Sheek Ash Sommer Reds De Wein, Or Sonnlight Sends A Fire Life Troo An Blank Karfunkelstein. De 'Berschwengliche Id'Es Dis Lofe Poot In My Mind, Vouldt Make A Foost-Rate Philosoph Of Any Human Kind. 'Tis Schudderin Schveet On Eart To Meet An Himmlisch-Hoellisch Qual; Und Treat Mitwhiles To K'Mmel Schnapps De Schoenheitsidial. Dein F'Ss Seind Weiss Wie Kreiden, Dein Ermlein Helfenbein, Dein Ganzer Leib Ist Seiden Dein Brust Wie Marmelstein- Ja-Vot De Older Boet Sang, I Sing Of Dee-Dou Fine! Dou'Rt Soul Und Pody, Heart Und Life Glatt, Zart, Gelind, Und Rein.