Spirit of old-time roses, when the glow

Of eventide steals softly through the trees

Like rosy petals falling, and the breeze

Grows hushed until it sings a love-song, low

And sweet and tender, then I seem to know

You too are somewhere near and watching these

Last wondrous sights of day—God’s mysteries

We used to watch together long ago.

And, like a benediction, happiness

Fills all my soul, as if a wandering breath

From that high heaven had wafted down to me—

As if I felt again your dear caress

And knew you to be waiting e’er in death,

Crowned with the roses of eternity.