There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream
  And the nightingale sings round it all the day long
  In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream
  To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song
  That bower and ist musik I never forget
  But of when alone in the bloom of the year
  I think: "Is the nightingale singing there yet?
  Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?"
  
  No the roses soon wither'd that hung o'er the wave
  But some blossoms were gather'd while freshly they shone
  And the dew was distill'd from their flowers they gave
  All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone
  Thus memory draws from delight ere it dies
  An essence that breathes of it many a year
  Thus bright to my soul as 'twas then to my eyes
  Is that hower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer
  
  Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?