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 ? 



Bridal, royal Rose ! 

 How, 'midst grief and fear, 



Canst ihou thus disolusc 



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. 



