We’re dying – there’s no denying.
    But why waste our precious hours
    On a lot of useless crying,
    When we might be smelling flowers!

O for a palette of colors so fair!
O for a touch of artful mastery!
For a steady hand and the heart to dare
Frame joy with such dazzling symmetry!

Flowers, in your many forms, I adore
The sweet essence that fills you to the core,
And blooms from eternity’s barren soil!
Though your petals wither and your leaves spoil,

Though blossomed to a short season of shades,
There is much of life your spirit may tell!
O for the wisdom to understand well
Of painting boldly though the canvas fades!

She made for me a clover ring,
With a sweet blossom for a gem,
Sealed my matrimony with spring,
For a day, with a loop of stem.

She wed me to a sunny day,
Tied happiness to me with string.
For a time I was joined with May,
United by a clover ring.