POETRY OF THE ROSE. 85 



Many a pouting' lip has flush'd 



In rival beauty by thy side ; 

 Many a maiden cheek has blush'd 



In vain to match thy crimson pride. 

 The pink may burst its varied hue, 

 The violet its azure blue, 

 The lily claim the snow its own ; 

 But still thou reign'st, undimmed, alone. 



Thou hast the tale of love express'd, 

 In words the faltering tongue forebore ; 



And answering- from the heart confess'd, 

 What eye and cheek had told before. 



Young hearts have whisper'd to thy ears 



The secret of their hopes and fears ; 



When, nestled in a gentle breast, 



Thou had'st thy tender folds carest. 



Ah ! anxious hope long watch has kept, 



Despairingly beneath thy cover; 

 While fond heart sighed and bright eye wept 



The absence of a faithless lover. 

 And many a vow of love is made. 

 And fond heart pledged beneath thy shade ; 

 While friendly moonbeams light thy bower, 

 And glides too soon the stolen hour. 



I love thee, emblem of my youth ! 



Thou bring'st to mind fond memories — 

 When fancy wore the garb of truth, 



And love made earth a paradise. 



But as those dreamy hours have fled 



Before the light stern truth has shed 



So will thy fleeting beauty fade, 



And join the wreck that time has made. 



D. Everett Rose. 

 8 



