Go find for me in all of botany;
The rarest rose amidst the sweetest mire
That blooms of petals white like cottony
Of growth 'twas serenaded by a lyre.
Replant with gentle skill by window's sill,
Repose the eye that sunlight does not steal
That blondy gaze to watch the lover's will
So fade into the gentle budding wheel.
Then flower's dance shall sway to hymns of bay
And whom shall follow 'tranced with steady eyes;
Be titled botanist, of beauty's play;
Degree's that yield each morn' the sun does rise.
Find that and know a glimpse of my beloved
Although no rose could meet nor be so loved.