Rose in the bud
D. Forster
Rose in the bud.
The June air's warm and tender,
Why do you shrink your petals to display?
Are you afraid to bloom in crimson splendour
Lest someone come and steal your heart away?
Rose in the bud,
The evening sun is sinking.
Wait not too long and trifle not with fate:
Life is so short and love is all, I'm thinking.
Love comes but once, and then, perhaps, too late.