108 ROSE. 



Lift up thy head above thy earthly dwelling, 

 Daughter of heaven ! 



Wake ! for the watery clouds are all dispersing ! 

 Zephyr invites thee : frosts and snows of winter 

 All are departed; and Favonian breezes 

 Welcome thee, smiling. 



ON AN EARLY ROSE. 



ANON. 



Sweet Rose, whom early showers 

 Have kindly, fondly nurst : 



I love thy leaves of red, 



For from fair Flora's bed 



Thou lift'st thy modest head, 

 Sweet Rose — the First. 



What spell is in that word, 



The First! the primal one: 



Oh ! wherefore loves to stray 



The mind to pleasure's day, 



And count in life's pathway 



The sweets that shone! 



Is it because of joys 



Long since like dreams are fled, 

 Though each had rapture in it, 

 None had that charm within it. 

 As when that First — First minute, 



Their sweets were shed? 



