24. I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. I etehi wa mahara ai ahau kaore he Whero hei rite Ki to te Puawai i tupu ake nei i te wâhi i nehua ai i maringi ai hoki nga toto o tetehi Toa-taua; Me nga Pua katoa e uhi nei i te Mâra ano nei I taka iho i nga Turi no runga mai i te Mahunga o tetehi tau-purotu. 25. And this delightful Herb whose living Green Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean— Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! A ko tenei Tarutaru oranga ngakau e tupu matomato nei Kakariki tonu Whakapapa rawa i te Ngutu-awa e okiokitia nei a taua— Kia ata okioki iho! Ko wai hoki e mohio Tera pea i tupu ake i nga Ngutu ataahua o te tau-purotu o mua ra, kua ngaro nei.