Robins and roses, and maybe a tree
A few morning glories, a cottage two storeys high

Robins and roses, and your love for me
To live on forever, and my love to never die

A place where neighbours may drop in
And smile when they see
An armchair to flop in
We can add to their glee serving afternoon tea

Mid robins and roses, and then life will be
A poem by Kipling, while troubles go rippling by.

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