“Where shall we betake us when the day’s work is over?
(Ah, red is the rose-bush in the lane.)
Happy is the maid that knows the footstep of her lover--
(Sing the song, the Eden song, again.)
Who shall listen to us when black sorrow comes a-reaping?
(See the young lark falling from the sky.)
Happy is the man that has a true heart in his keeping--
True hearts flourish when the roses die.”