Four roses grew in the hidden glade,
Four roses, tall and bright,
With velvet petals all adorned.
Surrounded by a shining light.
The first rose was purest white,
Beautiful as the rising sun,
It stood for the simple innocence
Of love when it's first begun.
The second rose was fairest pink,
It stood for that first glad dance,
The sweetness of their clasped hands
The joy of their romance.
The third rose was shining red,
As love at its zenith height.
Sentiments may fade, but the emerging love
Is refined and contrite.
The fourth rose was deepest black,
It stood for bitter death.
A mourning girl by her lover's side,
His final gasping breath.
As I saw these roses four,
Their colors seemed to blend,
And I knew that together they stood for love,
From its beginning to the end.


