With A Red Rose On Her Birthday

What the Rose thought: Oh, to be one-and-twenty! But I am a rose that must bloom for a day; My life is like color and perfume in May; To-night I shall fade in her beautiful hair, And touch with my petals her proud neck and fair. Oh, to be one-and-twenty!

What She sang, exultingly: Oh, to be one-and-twenty! To feel that the glorious days of my youth Are only the promise of hope, love, and truth-- That all joyful things in my bright future gleam, And I am to live them and find out my dream. Oh, to be one-and-twenty!

What He wrote, sadly: Oh, to be one-and-twenty! To dream that the great world is still all my own, And cherish again the ideals that have flown; To follow them, hiding with cunning and art, And find them all sleeping within her warm heart, Her heart that is one-and-twenty!