How a Blue Rose Came To Be

Once upon a time many years ago There was a sweet and lovely red, red Irish rose That was plucked prematurely from the garden vine A budding beauty taken in her prime She was laid to rest upon the death of a lovers dream Upon a chest of ebony where lie his would-be Queen Lowered deep into the depths of the church yard cemetery Her scarlet petals wilting in the summer breeze Then the earth begin to fall like autumn leaves Upon her petals and the chest of ebony From above her tomb where stood the grieving groom Weeping, weeping like a willow tree Then the sky begin to disappear amid that mournful cry As tears from above fell from that lovers eyes And came to rest like dew drops on that Irish rose As she disappeared beneath the earth There in his grief below In time he laid a stone of ivory upon her grave Etched deeply with the promise he had made To love his Irish Rose forever and a day The years and all their seasons came and went And a million lonely tears were cried and spent Upon her grave where everyday he knelt and prayed And dreamed of her until his dying day The epigram has long since faded on the ivory stone That still stands alone upon her grave Where from the million tears of love he gave A seemingly impossible blue, blue rose has grown