Two Roses.

I've a friend beyond the ocean
    So regardful, so sincere,
And he sends me in a letter
    Such a pretty souvenir.

It is crushed to death and withered,
    Out of shape and very flat,
But its pure, delicious odor
    Is the richer for all that.

'Tis a rose from Honolulu,
    And it bears the tropic brand,
Sandwiched in this friendly missive
    From that far-off flower-land.

It shall mingle pot-à-pourri
    With the scents I love and keep;
Some of them so very precious
    That remembrance makes me weep.

While I dream I hear the music
    That of happiness foretells,
Like the flourishing of trumpets
    And the sound of marriage bells.

There's a rose upon the prairie,
    Chosen his by happy fate,
He shall gather when he cometh
    Sailing through the Golden Gate.

Mine, a public posy, growing
    Somewhere by the garden wall,
Might have gone to any stranger,
    May have been admired by all.

But the rose in beauty blushing,
    Tenderly and sweetly grown
In the home and its affections,
    Blooms for him, and him alone.

Speed the voyager returning;
    His shall be a welcome warm,
With the Rose of Minnesota
    Gently resting on his arm.

Love embraces in his kingdom
    Earth and sea and sky and air.
Hail, Columbia! hail, Hawaii!
    It is Heaven everywhere.