102 POETRY OF THE ROSE. 



Ctuickly, quickly, sister dear, 



Lead my footsteps where 

 These untru sling eyes may feast 

 On a sight so rare." 

 And they made him a seat by the window's side, 

 Where the bright flowers clung in their dewy pride. 

 Smiling above the unburied leaves 

 Which the frost had cast from the vine-wreathed eaves. 



"Wherefore, children 'of the light," 



(Whisper'd he again,) 

 " Come ye, in these gloomy days. 



Near the couch of pain ? 

 Would ye mock the fading flower 



Of a human tree, 

 Boasting for its deathless root 

 Immortality ? 

 Would ye mock with your purity the heart 

 Whence sinful passions so wildly start ? 

 Or bring ye the hope of a cleansing power 

 For the sin-dyed soul in its parting hour ? 



" Ye are emblems, lovely flowers, 



Of unnumber'd things — 

 Emblems of unsullied hopes, 



With their airy wings — 

 Emblems of the love which burns 



With a hueless ray, 

 Spreading o'er the lamb-like mind • 

 An eternal day ; 

 Also of hearts where a living faith 

 Rises up coldly, 'mid fields of scathe, 

 Startling the eye in a wintry hour 

 With its healing fruit and its fragrant flower. 



