LIKE the dawn, quick heralding
The sunniest day of spring,
A fragrance brims the sense
From hidden treasure, whence
Blow tidings that express
A punctual friendship's truth and living inwardness.

O the beauty of the roses,
In whose sweet breath reposes,
Mid tender sleeping buds
And color's perfumed floods,
The wealth, and nothing less,
Of dear old friendship's ever-freshened loveliness.