A single flow’r he sent
me, since we met,
All tenderly his messenger he
chose;
Deep-hearted pure, with scented dew
still wet - -
One perfect rose.
I know the language of the
floweret.
“My fragile leaves,” it said, “his
heart enclose.”
Love long has taken for his
amulet
One perfect rose.
Why is it no one ever sent yet
One perfect limousine, do you
suppose?
Ah no, it’s always just my luck to
get
One perfect rose.