Rose, on this terrace fifty years ago,
When I was in my June, you in your May,
Two words, ‘My Rose’ set all your face aglow,
And now that I am white, and you are gray,
That blush of fifty years ago, my dear,
Blooms in the Past, but close to me to-day
As this red rose, which on our terrace here
Glows in the blue of fifty miles away.
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