My rose it has decayed

my old self still passing

And my new self underway

Still new with what I'm grasping

 

Now that my rose decay

Hand and hand I know we'll stay

Though and though I know we'll be

me to thee and thee to me

 

My rose it is stilled,

still as a solid heart

To be broken, then filled,

With such beauty, and art,

 

I can not know

What grace you claim to hold

I will believe, and go

Like the witness you showed

 

 

The rain and the breeze can not say

How a smile break the beauty of May

And forever a smile to see

In the heart of one who holds thee.