Roses are shining in Picardy,
In the hush of the silvery dew.
Roses are flowering in Picardy,
But there's never a rose like you!
And the roses will die with the summertime,
And our roads may be far apart,
But there's one rose that dies not in Picardy.
'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart!
(--Haydn Wood/Fred Weatherly--)