1.
In a lonely, grassy valley, down beside a winding stream,
Lives a lovely little lassie like a fairy in a dream;
Her home is but a cabin, you can call it nothing more,
With the sweetest roses blooming in their beauty round the door;
The birds are her companions, and their songs are blithe and gay,--
They cheer the pleasant hours of her dreamy life away;
It seems to her a palace, Nature fitted up so well
For Jennie, brown-eyed Jennie, the Flower of the Dell.

CHORUS
Oh, she seems to be an angel that has come to earth to roam,
She has made a little palace of her humble cottage home;
I'd give the world, if it were mine, if I could only dwell
With Jennie, brown-eyed Jennie, the flowere of the dell.

2.
I have looked upon her smiling face among the flowers fair,
And tho't: in all the garden there was none so lovely there;
I have heard her voice, so merry, singing melodies of mirth,
Far sweeter than I'd listen'd to from any bird on earth;
When Nature made this country lass she threw away the die,--
She made the valley for her home, to please her heart and eye;
But who loves her and whom she loves there is no one can tell,
Save Jennie, brown-eyed Jennie, the Flower of the Dell.

(CHORUS)

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