76 POETRY OF THE ROSE. 



Not such thy spells o'er those that hailed thee first, 

 In the clear light of Eden's golden day ! 



There thy rich leaves to crimson glory burst, 

 Link'd with no dim remembrance of decay. 



Rose ! for the banquet gathered and the bier ! 



Rose ! colored now by human hope or pain ; 

 Surely where death is not — nor change, nor fear, 



Yet may we meet thee, Joy's own flower, again. 



Felicia Hemans. 



A SONG OF THE ROSE. 



Rose ! what dost thou here 1 



Bridal, royal Rose ! 

 How, 'midst grief and fear, 

 Canst thou thus disclose 

 That fervid hue of love which to thy heart-leaf glows ? 



Rose ! too much array'd 

 For triumphal hours, 

 Look'st thou through the shade 

 Of these mortal bowers. 

 Not to disturb my soul, thou crown'd one of all flowers ! 



As an eagle soaring 



Through a sunny sky. 

 As a clarion pouring 

 Notes of victory. 

 So dost thou kindle thoughts for earthly life too high — 



Thoughts of rapture flushing 



Youthful poet's cheek. 

 Thoughts of glory rushing 



Forth in song to break, 

 But finding the spring-tide of rapid song too weak. 



