Oh, stand ye above the wind a man
And hand your love to Clarinda Tan.

It is your heart and it is your mind,
Your beautiful words of every kind;
It is the songs that at morn you sing—
Live flights of your imagining!
Oh, give her the soul of your heart’s desire,
All the dreams in you that will never tire,
And give her the zest of youth seventeen,
And best of your seventies, coming up green.
Oh, give her the simple, the shy and the true,
And give her the confident highlights of you.
Give every last part of you, weakest and strong,
Then sing to her, yes; oh, sing her a song!
Look her clear in the eye, see all of her, full,
Her most wonderful self, ah, so beautiful!
Look close at her lips as they speak and you hear
The voice of all voices, most certain, most dear.
Oh, take all of her in—every movement she moves,
Her competent confidence—life’s joy that it proves.
You’ll smile when she smiles—oh, you know it is true,
For she is the magnet that draweth out you!

Oh, stand ye above the wind a man
And hand your love to Clarinda Tan!