There has fallen a splendid tear

From the passion-flower at the gate.

She is coming, my dove, my dear;

She is coming, my life, my fate;

The red rose cries, ‘She is near, she is near;’

And the white rose weeps, ‘She is late.’

The larkspur listens, ‘I hear, I hear;’

And the lily whispers, ‘I wait.’

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–92), English poet, in Maud  (1855) pt.1 sect 22, st.10