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133
THE ROSE OF YESTERDAY.
The rose, that, yesterday, so fair
In opening beauty crowned us,
To-day may leave us thorns to wear,
In ruins falling round us.
Yet, let us take the rose of morn,
Before its beauties languish;
But not so close, that a lingering thorn
Can make of its memory anguish.
In opening beauty crowned us,
To-day may leave us thorns to wear,
In ruins falling round us.
Yet, let us take the rose of morn,
Before its beauties languish;
But not so close, that a lingering thorn
Can make of its memory anguish.
The eye that beams, our joy, to-day,
May sleep in death to-morrow;
Or, worse, be coldly turned away,
And ours be dim with sorrow.
Still, may we answer smile for smile;
But ah! forgetting never,
That truth on earth must abide with guile,
And holiest ties must sever!
May sleep in death to-morrow;
Or, worse, be coldly turned away,
And ours be dim with sorrow.
Still, may we answer smile for smile;
But ah! forgetting never,
That truth on earth must abide with guile,
And holiest ties must sever!
The voice, whose music sweet and pure
Our soul is deeply drinking,
Perchance may prove a syren's lure,
Till, wrecked, our bark is sinking.
Yet, while our course straight on we steer,
We'll list the honeyed number;
And take the song but our voyage to cheer,
Nor by it be lulled to slumber.
Our soul is deeply drinking,
Perchance may prove a syren's lure,
Till, wrecked, our bark is sinking.
Yet, while our course straight on we steer,
We'll list the honeyed number;
And take the song but our voyage to cheer,
Nor by it be lulled to slumber.
134
Whilst thus the bitter and the sweet
Our cup of life are filling,—
If summer sun and winter sleet
By turns are warm and chilling,—
While transient things of time and earth
Can soothe, adorn, betray us,—
O, let us grant to them all they 're worth,
But never the power to slay us!
Our cup of life are filling,—
If summer sun and winter sleet
By turns are warm and chilling,—
While transient things of time and earth
Can soothe, adorn, betray us,—
O, let us grant to them all they 're worth,
But never the power to slay us!
Yet, what was pure of love below,
The change of time defying,
A flower of Heaven, shall spring and grow,
With bloom unstained, undying.
And we, who here the tender germ
In faithful hearts may cherish,
Shall find above it is rooted firm,
Where never a bud can perish.
The change of time defying,
A flower of Heaven, shall spring and grow,
With bloom unstained, undying.
And we, who here the tender germ
In faithful hearts may cherish,
Shall find above it is rooted firm,
Where never a bud can perish.
And this our Thornless Rose shall be,
That yesterday was pining,
A feeble shoot we scarce could see,
Where serpent weeds were twining.
Transplanted on the Holy Mount,
Where forms no cloud of sorrow,
Its root will drink from the living Fount,—
'T will wither in no dark morrow!
That yesterday was pining,
A feeble shoot we scarce could see,
Where serpent weeds were twining.
Transplanted on the Holy Mount,
Where forms no cloud of sorrow,
Its root will drink from the living Fount,—
'T will wither in no dark morrow!
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