The roses and the mothers cannot choose
But give forth what of beautiful they have,
But give forth what fair love and sunshine gave
In tender sympathy, or delicate hues,
Soft scents eternal, love's undying dews.
And He who bore the man's heart from earth's wave
To Heaven's calm shore that He might sweetly save,
Cannot but pity as our wail renews.
Fragrant eternally were the eternal rose,
Eternal were compassion for the child,
Eternal are our sorrows in His sight;
And everlastingly compassion flows
From Him who bears Humanity undefiled,
For infinite pathos pity infinite.