The roses are red, the roses are yellow, The violets are blue and the sea is a-fellow, For the stars are all eyes, and the mountains all ears, And the trees wear their crowns like patricians of years.

A heart that is brave with a tryst with the wild, And the world leaps to greet us, a passionate child. The grasses are whispering secrets of dawn, And the song of the sea birds, of skyward, are drawn.

• C J Dennis