In the Time of Roses

The cluster of buds I found while pruning a few weeks back now proves its worth.

In this glimpse, my sandalled toes appear and even a tiny slice of my rose-pink blouse.

Here are the words to a song Mrs. Louise Newkirk taught me when I was a teenager, in the early 1950s. I find now that it is a German song by a woman composer, which is not surprising, since Mrs; Newkirk ("a pupil of a pupil of Liszt") was a German refugee. She charged a dollar per lesson. Worth every penny!

In the Time of Roses

In the time of roses

hope, thou weary heart.

Spring a balm discloses

for the keenest smart.

Though thy grief o'ercome thee

through the winter's gloom;

Thou shall thrust it from thee

when the roses bloom

In the time of roses

weary heart rejoice!

Ere the summer closes

comes the longed for voice

Let not death appall thee

for beyond the tomb,

God himself shall call thee,

when the roses bloom

I know Luise Reichart wrote the music, but I am not sure about the words. 

I loved the song for the wonderful trills and embellishments 

that were quite easy to memorize and to sing, even though 

the essential sadness of the song escaped my young heart.