O! For breath of roses fair, Sweet on garden gales that stray. Plucked by the hand that doth repair, The place where love’s blossoms play. Flutter by and carry green, Essence of the earth’s delight, Take the scent where all convene, Spread through life’s joyous flight.

A calm before the summer’s eye, A warmth that cannot cease to grow, Keep thee close to nature’s tie, Hero of the fields, our woe.

— A Rhapsody of the Roses

• William Shakespeare