PLANT AND WAIT 



It bore but once, and a white rose only 



A lovely rose with petals of light; 

 Like the moon in heaven, supreme and lonely, 

 And the lightning struck it one summer night. 

 MATHILDE BLIND. 



(Love in Exile.) 



Only Roses 



To a garden full of posies 

 Cometh one to gather flowers; 

 And he wanders through its bowers 



Toying with the wanton roses, 

 Who, uprising from their beds, 

 Hold on high their shameless heads 



With their pretty lips a-pouting, 



Never doubting never doubting 

 That for Cytherean posies 

 He would gather aught but roses. 



In a nest of weeds and nettles, 



Lay a violet, half hidden; 



Hoping that his glance unbidden 

 Yet might fall upon her petals. 



Though she lived alone, apart, 



[161] 



