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.

When love came first to earth, the Spring
Spread rose-beds to receive him.

When love came first to earth, the Spring
Spread rose-beds to receive him.

Rose were sette of swete savour,
With many roses that thei bere.

Rose were sette of swete savour,
With many roses that thei bere.

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

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

Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither.

Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither.

There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the
thorns.

There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the
thorns.

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.

Red as a rose of Harpocrate.

Red as a rose of Harpocrate.

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet read more

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet bonnie mou'!