Just when the red June Roses blow She gave me one,--a year ago.
A Rose whose crimson breath revealed The secret that its heart concealed,And whose half shy,half tender grace Blushed back upon the giver's face.
A year ago--a year ago -
To hope was not to know.
Just when the red June Roses blow I plucked her one,--a month ago:
Its half-blown crimson to eclipse,I laid it on her smiling lips;The balmy fragrance of the south Drew sweetness from her sweeter mouth.
Swiftly do golden hours creep,-
To hold is not to keep.
The red June Roses now are past,This very day I broke the last -And now its perfumed breath is hid,With her,beneath a coffin-lid;There will its petals fall apart,And wither on her icy heart:-At three red Roses'cost My world was gained and lost.
