“The rose is red, the violet’s blue,
Pinks are pretty, and so are you.”
The rose is red, my rosy dear;
But that you as yet hardly know,
Since you have only been with us
Four of the times when roses blow.
The violet’s blue, my blue-eyed love;
Yet that, perhaps, you hardly knew,
Since you have only four times passed
The violets in their hoods of blue.
The pinks are pretty, baby queen,
And so are you; but that, also,
From being here so short a time,
Perhaps you’ve hardly learned to know.