September Rose, by John Cobley After the morning sigh of frost, /
How strangely the rose smiles /
With a flush of parted lips /
On a fleeting September day!
In front of blue ...
The September Rose, by Yevgeny Bonver To sighs of morning air, that froze, — /
(With her lips opened for a say), /
How curiously has smiled the rose /
On a September fleeting day!
...