When the buds began to burst, br Long ago, with Rose the First br I was walking; joyous then br Far above all other men, br Till before us up there stood br Britonferry's oaken wood, br Whispering, "Happy as thou art, br Happiness and thou must part." br Many summers have gone by br Since a Second Rose and I br (Rose from the same stem) have told br This and other tales of old. br She upon her wedding day br Carried home my tenderest lay: br From her lap I now have heard br Gleeful, chirping, Rose the Third. br Not for her this hand of mine br Rhyme with nuptial wreath shall twine; br Cold and torpid it must lie, br Mute the tongue, and closed the eye.