Vilanelle.
These half-blown roses, yesternight,1
My lady gathered laughingly—2
A crimson rosebud, and a white.3
She smothered them with fern-leaves quite,4
Till through the green you scarce could see5
These half-blown roses, yesternight.6
Her face was flushed with rosy light ;7
On each fair cheek shone charmingly8
A crimson rosebud, and a white.9
I cannot surely tell aright10
With what sweet grace she gave to me11
These half-blown roses, yesternight ;12
Gave me, in pledge of all delight13
That in the coming days shall be14
A crimson rosebud, and a white.15
Lady, my days are golden-bright,16
Because you plucked, half-playfully,17
These half-blown roses, yesternight,18
A crimson rosebud, and a white.19