 | The poems of Celia Thaxter |  |
A ROSE OF JOY
FOR A BETROTHAL
As when one wears a fragrant rose
Close to the heart, a rose most fair,
And while the day's life onward flows
Forgets that it is fastened there,
Close to the heart, a rose most fair,
And while the day's life onward flows
Forgets that it is fastened there,
And wonders what delicious charm
Dwells in the air about, and whence
Come the rich wafts of perfume warm
Subtly saluting soul and sense;
Dwells in the air about, and whence
Come the rich wafts of perfume warm
Subtly saluting soul and sense;
And then, remembering what it is,
Bends smiling eyes the flower above,
Adores its beauty and its bliss
And looks on it with grateful love—
Bends smiling eyes the flower above,
Adores its beauty and its bliss
And looks on it with grateful love—
210
Even so I wear, O friend of mine,
The sweet thought of your happiness;
The knowledge of your joy divine
Is fragrant with a power to bless.
The sweet thought of your happiness;
The knowledge of your joy divine
Is fragrant with a power to bless.
With the day's work preoccupied
Vaguely, half conscious of delight,
Upborne as on a buoyant tide,
I wonder why life seems so bright.
Vaguely, half conscious of delight,
Upborne as on a buoyant tide,
I wonder why life seems so bright.
Then memory speaks; then winter gray
And age and cares that have no end
Touch me no more. I am to-day
Rich in the wealth that cheers my friend.
And age and cares that have no end
Touch me no more. I am to-day
Rich in the wealth that cheers my friend.
| The poems of Celia Thaxter | |