With Some Birthday Roses

If I were not a speechless flower I’d like to talk with you an hour And whisper many pretty things That thinking of your birthday brings.

(For flowers can dream of happiness While you their velvet petals press!) But I can’t talk--I know a man Who often vainly thinks he can,

And what he wanted me to do Was simply to look fair to you And wish you joy--and then surprise The gentle look in your dear eyes.