Rose
J. Raynor
Rose, little Rose, the youngest of the Roses,
My little Rose whom I may never see,
When you shall come to where the heart reposes,
Cut me a Rose and send it down to me.
When you shall come into the High Rose-Gardens
Where Roses bend upon Our Lady's Tree,
The place of Plenitudes, the place of Pardons,
Cut me a Rose and send it down to me.