DOG- 

 ROSE 



DAYS IN MY GARDEN 



sways the plumes of meadow- 

 sweet, and makes them 

 dip and bow as if in mock 

 obeisance to their stately 

 presence. There are tall 

 green arching grasses, 

 breeze-bent, and great 

 bushes of dog-roses, with a 

 pink all their own, thickly set 

 with thorns; a safe retreat 

 for the shy black-cap 

 who out-pours his rapid 

 torrent of song. He 

 alone seems in a hurry, 

 for we would pause and 

 grasp the placid scene, 

 till we have drunk in its sweetness, 

 stored up its many messages, ere the day when 

 song shall cease and the rose petals fall. 



' 





130 



