ord per minut
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Hastighet
Lilies be plenty with us,
Pansies flower for all,
Take ye heed to the Roses
Lest they make to fall.
Violets lie in the meadows—
Take of the Violet—
Who can gather the Roses
And pass away and forget?
Love is sure in the Lily,
Pansie brings us ease.
But he that gathers the Roses
When shall his sorrow cease?
Woodbine clings and decays,
Daffodils blossom and die—
There is no Death in the Roses
Unto Eternity.
Whoso is snared of the Roses
Beareth a brand of Cain—
The fruit of the Tree of Knowledge
Caught from the arms of Pain.
Whoso is snared of the Roses
Hath no peace at all—
Guard your feet from their briers
Lest they make to fall.