The perfume of a flower, a touch, a tone,
Oft waken memories of dear days gone,
Wherein an atmosphere of earthly bliss,
A plighted love was sealed with thrilling kiss.

Who has not treasured some poor faded flower?
In token of a radiant, love lit hour,
When life was one delicious joyful dream,
Ere we had learnt "things are not what they seem."

Sweet rose! in sunlit robes of beauty rare,
Which loads with fragrance the enraptured air,
Reposing gracefully on verdant stem,
Thou art of all earth's flowers the choicest gem!

Well has our country done in making thee
An emblem of her nationality;
Thy beauteous form, sweet breath and sunset sheen,
Make thee of all earth's loveliest flowers the Queen!

Who says that Scotland's thistle is not fair?
Of sturdy growth and free determined air,
Type of a race, in mental vigour strong,
Of perseverance and endurance long.

The shamrock with its triple verdant smile,
Fit emblem of our emerald sister isle!
Whose people's pleasant humour laughs down care,
As they good fellowship delight to share.