| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | ||
UNDER THE ROSE.
She wears a rose in her hair,
At the twilight's dreamy close:
Her face is fair, how fair
Under the rose.
At the twilight's dreamy close:
Her face is fair, how fair
Under the rose.
I steal like a shadow there,
As she sits in rapt repose,
And whisper my loving prayer
Under the rose.
As she sits in rapt repose,
And whisper my loving prayer
Under the rose.
She takes the rose from her hair,
And her color comes and goes,
And I—a lover will dare
Under the rose!
And her color comes and goes,
And I—a lover will dare
Under the rose!
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | ||