Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my loves delight.
She would none of all my posies,
Bade me gather her blue roses.
Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew.
Half the world unto mt quest,
Answered me with laugh and jest.
How I came home at winter-tide,
but my silly Love had died.
Seeking with her latest breath,
Roses from the arms of death.
It may be beyond the grave,
She shall find what she would Have.
Mine was but an idle quest.
Rose white and roses red are Best. R. Kipling