THE WILD HOSE. 
I LOVE the Rose of Summer, 
I love the sweet Wild Rose, 
I love the stream beside it. 
That softly rippling flows. 
I love the month that brings it. 
The merry laughing June, 
I love the bird that sings it, 
A gay and loving tune. 
It has the sweetest fragrance 
Of any flower that blows; 
The crown, there’s no disputing, 
Belongeth to the Rose. 
The garden rose is richest. 
For Flora’s diadem. 
But charming is the Wild Rose 
For her a bosom-gem. 
