noon
He held already in his hand a rose , blooming and fresh as morning , which he put upon her plate , and beside it a spray of yellow jessamine . Grace and elegance-while the beautiful Mundi rose spoke its own language - `` you are merry . '' `` Blushing rose ! Blown in the morning-thou shalt fade ere noon : What boots a life that in such haste forsakes thee ? Thou ` rt wondrous frolic being to die so soon , And passing proud a little color makes thee . '' And now came the most interesting point , to see what flowers he would place upon his sister 's plate . First , a handful of violets .