And answered him in half surprise,
“No, they are for our Lord,” he smiled,
And thought: “This is indeed a child.”
“Give me the loveliest,” she said
“Delicate white and rosy red,
And heliotrope and mignonette,
All that you know and I forget;
And heap these crimson roses, so:
Yes, they are costly, that I know;
But what can be too fair or sweet