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THE ROSE.
Mark, dear girl, this faded rose,
On the dewy greensward lying;
Morning saw its leaves unclose,
Evening comes and finds it dying.
Thus doth loveliness decay
Sometimes in a single day.
On the dewy greensward lying;
Morning saw its leaves unclose,
Evening comes and finds it dying.
Thus doth loveliness decay
Sometimes in a single day.
133
Death, that stony-hearted thing,
Loves to steal the fairest flowers;
Lurking with his deadly sting,
In the heart of summer bowers:
Maidens, beautiful as thou,
Have become his prey ere now.
Loves to steal the fairest flowers;
Lurking with his deadly sting,
In the heart of summer bowers:
Maidens, beautiful as thou,
Have become his prey ere now.
'Tis a stern, sad homily,
That should lead thy thoughts to Heaven,
Ere the fated moments fly,
Ere the ties of earth are riven,—
So when Time's dark portals close,
Thou may'st bloom, a deathless rose.
That should lead thy thoughts to Heaven,
Ere the fated moments fly,
Ere the ties of earth are riven,—
So when Time's dark portals close,
Thou may'st bloom, a deathless rose.
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