University of Virginia Library


TO A WITHERED ROSE.

Page TO A WITHERED ROSE.

TO A WITHERED ROSE.

Nature's warm spirit's! from thee fled,
As now thon hangst upon thy stem
All sapless, withered, wan and dead,
Yet fragrant still, sweet gem!
So is it with the pure in life;
When, from this earth, they pass away;
Their deeds, with virtue's sweets are rife,
They live beyond decay.

R. H.