WHEN THE ROSES ARE IN BLOOM 
FRANCESCA FALK MILLER 
There’s a Rambler on the trellis, 
And a wild rose in the hedge, 
With a gay and golden Marechal Neil 
Upon the Arbor’s edge. 
There’s a Sweetheart bud a^tapping 
At the window of my room, 
And my heart is singing . . . singing . . . 
For the roses are in bloom! 
Oh! the crimson of each sunset 
And the glowing pink at dawn, 
Royal colors of the roses 
Holding court upon the lawn. 
Oh, the joy, the smiles, the fragrance. 
Of a land that knows no gloom; 
Just a peaceful, sunkissed heaven 
When the roses are in bloom! 
