 | Poems by Miss H. F. Gould |  |
165
WORSHIP BY THE ROSE TREE.
Author of beauty, Spirit of Power,
Thou, who didst will that the Rose should be,—
Here is the place, and this is the hour
To feel thy presence and bow to thee!
Bright is the world with the sun's first rays;
Clear is the dew on the soft, green sod;
The Rose Tree blooms, while the birds sing praise,
And earth gives glory to nature's God.
Thou, who didst will that the Rose should be,—
Here is the place, and this is the hour
To feel thy presence and bow to thee!
Bright is the world with the sun's first rays;
Clear is the dew on the soft, green sod;
The Rose Tree blooms, while the birds sing praise,
And earth gives glory to nature's God.
Under this beautiful work of thine,
The flowery boughs, that are bending o'er
The glistening turf, to thy will divine
I kneel, and its Maker and mine adore.
Thou art around us. Thy robe of light
Touches the gracefully waving tree,
Turning to jewels the tears of night,
And making the buds unfold to thee.
The flowery boughs, that are bending o'er
The glistening turf, to thy will divine
I kneel, and its Maker and mine adore.
Thou art around us. Thy robe of light
Touches the gracefully waving tree,
Turning to jewels the tears of night,
And making the buds unfold to thee.
Traced is thy name in delicate lines
On flower and leaf, as they dress the stem.
Thy care is seen, and thy wisdom shines
In even the thorn, that is guarding them.
Now, while the Rose, that has burst her cup,
Opens her heart, and freely throws
To me her odors, I offer up
Thanks to the Being, who made the Rose!
On flower and leaf, as they dress the stem.
Thy care is seen, and thy wisdom shines
In even the thorn, that is guarding them.
Now, while the Rose, that has burst her cup,
Opens her heart, and freely throws
To me her odors, I offer up
Thanks to the Being, who made the Rose!
| Poems by Miss H. F. Gould | |