 | Anyta and other poems |  |
77
TO A ROSE.
Not the honeyed bee doth sip
All thy fragrance blossomed rife:
Sweetest juices from thy lip
Go to nourish higher life.
All thy fragrance blossomed rife:
Sweetest juices from thy lip
Go to nourish higher life.
Human souls are fed by thee:
What thou draw'st from air and earth
Is compounded cunningly
In a gift of moral worth.
What thou draw'st from air and earth
Is compounded cunningly
In a gift of moral worth.
78
Wisest thinker of our kind
Comes not near thee in his walk,
But thou dost enrich his mind,
Pendant on a tiny stalk.
Comes not near thee in his walk,
But thou dost enrich his mind,
Pendant on a tiny stalk.
Nurseling of the tenderest air,
All the life thou hast to live,
Dearest child of culture's care,
Is, to give, and still to give.
All the life thou hast to live,
Dearest child of culture's care,
Is, to give, and still to give.
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