Love is like wild rose-briar
Frinedship like the holly-tree
The holly is dark when the
rose-briar blooms
But wichi will bloom most
constantly?

The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the [...]