Beautiful morning so sweet,
Summer is blooming all out;
I saw in my garden, weed,
- Growing there about.

The greenest of tree is you,
All love is so tender now;
The tone inside me is blue,
O unlucky crow.

Why must this be always so,
When skies are so clear and great;
Why must my heart now lay low,
Is it all too late?

Beautiful morning so sweet,
It's raining inside my heart;
I'm walking a lonely street,
Why must we depart?

Peter S. Quinn

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/22-from-what-s-really-happening-in-54-numbers/