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Room for the roses, make room for the roses,
Coming by hundreds, a conquering race;
Not with their millions of tiny thorn lances
Raised to confront us, the brave host advance,
But with their beauty they conquer all foes.
Beautiful conquerors, dew-wet and tender,
City and town are bewitched by your splendor;
Every heart opens, all gateways unclose,
Room for the reign of the conquering rose.


Room for the roses, the conquering roses,
Red as the blood that in battles is shed;
White, as the snows that brave armies have trodden;
Gold, as the sunshine that glitters o'erhead;
Pink, as the dawn, to the sunset's rose-amber,
Over old walls how they struggle and clamber;
Never a desolate place but they fill it;
Never a desolate heart but they thrill it,
Sharer of happiness, soother of woes,
Room among men for the conqueror rose.


Time for the roses, take time for the roses,
Plant them to brighten each bare flowerless place;
Plenty of roses for children to gather,
Plenty of roses to gladden dull weather.
cut them for bouquet and basket and vase,
Send them to bring delight to a sad face;
See at their coming how aged eyes will brighten,
See at their coming how leaden cares lighten,
All they will say for you, melody knows.
Time in our lives, for the beautiful rose.


Time for the roses, plant gardens of roses,
Fair little Edens to brighten the years;
Wreathe the white cottage and garland the palace,
Richer than gold is each morn-jeweled chalice.
Greeting the sun with its dew-crystal tears,
Life would be grayer, dull care would be duller
But for their fragrance and beauty and color;
Every heart opens, all gateways unclose,
Long reign the beautiful conqueror, rose.