Charles Hague
(1769 - 1821)

Ye roses that bloom in the bower
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From a printed collection of glees by members of the Harmonic Society of Cambridge.
Lyrics: Anon

Ye roses that bloom in the bower,
Short-lived is your fragrance 'tis true;
Yet though ye but bloom for an hour,
Perhaps I may die before you.

The dart of cold death may be nigh,
For rapid and sure is its flight;
Tomorrow, alas, ye must die,
But I may be breathless tonight.