Till the rose's lips grow pale
With her sighs.

Till the rose's lips grow pale
With her sighs.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves,
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves,
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.

Thus to the Rose, the Thistle:
Why art thou not of thistle-breed?
Of use thou'dst, then, be read more

Thus to the Rose, the Thistle:
Why art thou not of thistle-breed?
Of use thou'dst, then, be truly,
For asses might upon thee feed.

I wish I might a rose-bud grow
And thou wouldst cull me from the bower.
To place read more

I wish I might a rose-bud grow
And thou wouldst cull me from the bower.
To place me on that breast of snow
Where I should bloom a wintry flower.

And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
read more

And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
In an unprepared season?

The full-blown rose, mid dewy sweets
Most perfect dies.

The full-blown rose, mid dewy sweets
Most perfect dies.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither.

Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither.

She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.

She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.