I see amid the dancing grass
    A shining, mellow, little rose
Such grandeur, such beauty she has
    A maiden thus, most grandiose

Her pose elegant yet frail
    Her hair a crimson net of sheen
Catching the stars falling pale
    Shining like clots of dew, pristine

Like maiden Spring, she is most fair
    Like summer, bright, yet shy and gray  
As winter, white, her crimson hair
    Are like the leaves by Autumn’s sway

And such marvels are all too few
    Of such marvel, no mortal knows
But I found it, I pluck, to you
     I give, a sign of love, this rose