But now that she is dead Bring ye the royal roses blushing red, Roses that on her breast All summer long, by these pale hands caressed, Have lain in happy calm, Breathing their lives away in bloom and balm!”
Roses for all the joy Of perfect hours when life had no alloy; When hope was glad and gay, And young Love sang his blissful roundelay; And to her eager eyes Each new day oped the gates of Paradise.
But, for that she hath wept, And over buried hopes long vigil kept, Bring mystic passion-flowers, To tell the tale of sacrificial hours When, lifting up her cross, She bore it bravely on through pain and loss!
Then at her blessèd feet, That never more shall haste on errands sweet, Lay fragrant mignonette And fair sweet-peas in dainty garlands set,— Dear humble flowers, that make Each passer-by the gladder for their sake!
For she who lieth here Trod not alone the high paths shining clear, With light of star and sun Falling undimmed her lofty place upon; But stooped to lowliest ways, Filling with fragrance all the passing days!
THREE LADDIES
O sailors sailing north, Where the wild white surges roar, And fierce winds and strong winds Blow down from Labrador— Have you seen my three brave laddies, My merry red-cheeked laddies, Three bold, adventurous laddies, On some tempestuous shore?
O sailors sailing south, Where the seas are calm and blue, And light clouds and soft clouds Are floating over you, Say, have you seen my laddies, My three bright, winsome laddies, My brown-haired, smiling laddies, With hearts so leal and true?
O sailors sailing east, Ask the sea-gulls sweeping by; O sailors sailing west, Ask the eagles soaring high, If they have seen my laddies, My careless, heedless laddies, Three debonair young laddies, Beneath the wide, wide sky?
O sailors, if you find them, Pray send them back to me; For them the winds go sighing Through every lonely tree— For these three wandering laddies, My tender, bright-eyed laddies, The laughter-loving laddies, Whom they no longer see.