How Roses Came Red

There once was a garden where roses grew,

White as the lilies, so fresh and fair,

And they loved the sun, and they loved the dew,

And loved to swing in the Summer air.

But time went along till the day was done,

The sun went sleepily down in the west;

And the roses cried, as they saw him go:

"Oh, stay with us, sun, for we love you best."

So there stayed a while with the coming night,

Sweet flushes of light that would softly press

A kiss on the lips of those roses white,

Till their leaves blushed red at the sweet caress.

Edric Vredenburg

A Rosebud by My Early Walk

A rosebud by my early walk,

Adown a corn-enclosed bawk,

Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,

All on a dewy morning.

Ere twice the shades o'dawn are fled,

In a' its crimson glory spread,

And drooping rich the dewy head,

It scents the early morning.

Burns

Song of the Flowers

We are the sweet flowers, 

Born of sunny showers,

Think, whene'er you see us,

what our beauty saith;

Leigh Hunt

O Me Love is Like a Red Red Rose

O, me luve is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June.

O, my luve is like a lullabye that's gently played in tune.

Burns

Wreathe then the roses

Wreathe then the roses, wreathe,

The beautiful still is ours;

While the stream shall flow,

and the sky shall glow,

The beautiful still is ours. 

Lord Lytton

O Lovely Rose

O Lovely rose, 

Tell her that wastes her time and me,

That now she knows 

When I resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Waller

Oh! Youth is the bud of the rose

Oh!  Youth is the bud of the rose,

And Love is the flower full-blown, 

And for Age are the dried rose petals;

The dry rose leaves are our own,

Sweet-scented with young long past,

And with promise of Heaven in store,

Where the rose shall blossom for ever

And the rose leaves shall fall no more! 

E. Nesbit

We bring roses, beautiful roses,
Dewy as the morning and coloured like the dawn;
Little tents of odour, where the bee reposes,
Swooning in sweetness of the bed he dreams upon.
Read.

Sweet letters of the angel tongue,

I've loved ye long and well,

And never have failed in your fragrance sweet,

To find some secret spell,--

A charm that has bound me, with 'witching power,

For mine is the old belief,

That, 'midst your sweets and 'midst your bloom,

There's a soul in every leaf. 

M. M. Ballou

I put my question to the flower:
"Pride of the Summer, garden queen,
Why livest thou thy little hour?"
And the Rose answered, "I am seen."
Piatt.

pink and green

Falling roses

A blush of commercially grown roses.

I have found that a steady diet of roses leads to good health. 
photo by Heidi Ashworth