Easter Roses — (To Mrs. Perry Honce McGee)
The roses you hold
Though they are withering away,
In their heart is my love
And a brighter day.
Their petals now drooped
But fragrance still sweet,
My heart with trueness
For you ever beats.
All the whole world
And its treasures of gold
Could tell no sweeter story
Than these roses have told.
So fate could ne’er send
No sweeter one, dear,
Than you with your love
And tender care.