1 In the time of roses,
Hope, thou weary heart!
Spring a balm discloses
For the keenest smart;
Tho' thy grief o'ercome thee
Thro' the winter's gloom,
Thou shalt thrust it from thee,
When the roses bloom.

2 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.