The Three Roses

When the buds began to burst, Long ago, with Rose the First I was walking; joyous then Far above all other men, Till before us up there stood Britonferry's oaken wood, Whispering, "Happy as thou art, Happiness and thou must part." Many summers have gone by Since a Second Rose and I (Rose from the same stem) have told This and other tales of old. She upon her wedding day Carried home my tenderest lay: From her lap I now have heard Gleeful, chirping, Rose the Third. Not for her this hand of mine Rhyme with nuptial wreath shall twine; Cold and torpid it must lie, Mute the tongue, and closed the eye.