Nonne foret mera solitudo?
Father Prout.
The First Rose of Summer.
’Tis the first rose of summer, I saw it come out,
Its arrival I hailed with a rapturous shout.
I took off my hat (for politeness I’m famed),
And striking an attitude, thus I exclaimed:—
“Oh! clear first rose of summer, it gladdens my heart,
To behold thee thus lovely and bright, as thou art;