my neighbor’s roses always grow

in such a tantalizing row,

of fragrance and perfume,

a riotous mass of twilight bloom.

and i am tempted oftentimes

when walking where the stray ones climb,

to reach my willing hands out so

and clasp each crimson, flaming glow.

a breeze steals softly thru the day

and brushes them too far away.

christ! make me kind enough to give

of roses while my friends yet live.

and if they reach their eager hands,

to where my flowers with clinging bands,

are nodding, tempting, from the row.

oh! christ i pray let breezes blow

a thousand fragrant, tender charms

into my neighbor’s outstretched arms.

then keep my burning heart and tho’t,

tender enough to stay them not.