A red rose shining in the sun
Told me of summer new-begun.
I smoothed each petal, and kissed each petal,
And counted them one by one.
Eighteen--and I had two years more.
‘Match me, O rose!’ I said; and tore
In half two petals, two crimson petals,
To bring them to a score.
Just at that moment the wind blew--
Petal by petal away I threw,
And turned to the rose-bush, the lovely rose-bush,
Where other roses grew.