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She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.
She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.
'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with read more
'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with his hand
On all my birthdays, for me. save the last;
And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough,
For roses to stay after.
Yon rose-buds in the morning-dew,
How pure amang the leaves sae green!
Yon rose-buds in the morning-dew,
How pure amang the leaves sae green!
A white rosebud for a guerdon.
A white rosebud for a guerdon.
He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses.
He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses.
"For if I wait," said she,
"Till time for roses be,--
For the moss-rose and the musk-rose,
read more
"For if I wait," said she,
"Till time for roses be,--
For the moss-rose and the musk-rose,
Maiden-blush and royal-dusk rose,--
"What glory then for me
In such a company?--
Roses plenty, roses plenty
And one nightingale for twenty?"
O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, read more
O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,--
Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.
The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.
The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.
Go pretty rose, go to my fair,
Go tell her all I fain would dare,
Tell her read more
Go pretty rose, go to my fair,
Go tell her all I fain would dare,
Tell her of hope; tell her of spring,
Tell her of all I fain would sing,
Oh! were I like thee, so fair a thing.