I have but one rose in the world, And my one rose stands a—drooping: Oh, when my single rose is dead There’ll be but thorns for stoopin…

Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth,

Frost—locked all the winter, Seeds, and roots, and stones of fr… What shall make their sap ascend That they may put forth shoots? Tips of tender green,

Here where I dwell I waste to ski… The curse is come upon me, and I… In penal torment powerless to aton… The curse is come on me, which mak… And doth not tarry, crushing both…

The sweetest blossoms die. And so it was that, going day by d… Unto the church to praise and pray… And crossing the green churchyard… I saw how on the graves the flower…

Growing in the vale By the uplands hilly, Growing straight and frail, Lady Daffadowndilly. In a golden crown,

Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.

The peach tree on the southern wal… Has basked so long beneath the sun… Her score of peaches great and sma… Bloom rosy, every one. A peach for brothers, one for each…

Lord Jesus, who would think that… Ah, who would think Who sees me ready to turn back or… That Thou art mine? I cannot hold Thee fast though Th…

This Advent moon shines cold and… These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after y… And still their flame is strong. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ we…

Angels at the foot, And Angels at the head, And like a curly little lamb My pretty babe in bed.

Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.