Three Roses
On her breast were three roses
And she stirred the stirabout pot.
“Where have you got the roses.
And are you married or not?”
The sparks sang up the chimney—
Her brave eyes were so bright.
A pink rose and a red rose
And a rose bog-blossom white.
“Where did I get the roses?
That's what I'll tell to none,
And how can a girl be married,
And her by herself alone?”
The white neck in my elbow—
The tumbled breasts of desire!
And the roses petal by petal
Dropping into the fire.
The white and the pink and the red rose
Sobbing into the flame—
One couldn't tell where they went to,
One couldn't tell whence they came.
And she stirred the stirabout pot.
“Where have you got the roses.
And are you married or not?”
The sparks sang up the chimney—
Her brave eyes were so bright.
A pink rose and a red rose
And a rose bog-blossom white.
“Where did I get the roses?
That's what I'll tell to none,
And how can a girl be married,
And her by herself alone?”
The white neck in my elbow—
The tumbled breasts of desire!
And the roses petal by petal
Dropping into the fire.
The white and the pink and the red rose
Sobbing into the flame—
One couldn't tell where they went to,
One couldn't tell whence they came.
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