Roses pink and yellow, blue,
Waft through every age to you,
Petaled words a-flying fair
Round your spirit youthful there.
Though your body ‘gins to feel
Thieving Time come in to steal,
Roses pink and yellow, red,
Weave their garland round your head.
Will to plan and urge and act
Hasn’t gotten yet the sack!
Still your smile for Bob is sweet,
Still you’re fast upon your feet!
Still your love of life is strong,
Happy hands in busy song,
Feeding Black and old Big Head,
Catching drops the clouds have shed;
Wide awake in early morn,
Breakfast-making like a storm,
Thinking how you’ll fry the day
In your swift electric way!
Then hear now this rhyming scent
For old youth that’s still unspent;
Spring’s young words I waft to you—
Roses pink and yellow, blue!