POETRY OF THE ROSE. 93 



THE VIRGIN ROSE. 



Ah ! see, deep-blushing in her green recess, 

 The bashful virgin Rose, that, half revealing, 

 And half within herself herself concealing, 

 Is lovelier for her hidden loveliness. 

 Lo ! soon her glorious beauty she discovers ; 

 Soon droops, and sheds her leaves of faded hue : 

 Can this be she the flower erewhile that drew 

 The hearts of thousand maids of thousand longing 

 lovers ? 



So fleeteth in the fleeting of a day 

 Of mortal life, the green leaf and the flower, 

 And not, though spring return to every bower, 

 Buds forth again soft leaf or blossom gay. 

 Gather the Rose ! beneath the beauteous morning 

 Of this bright day that soon will over-cast ; 

 Oh, gather the sweet Rose, that yet doth last ! 



FROM TASSO. 



THE LITTLE RED ROSE. 



A boy caught sight of a rose in a bower 

 A little rose, slily hiding 



Among the boughs ; Oh, the rose was bright 



And young, and it glimmer'd like morning light; 

 The urchin sought it with haste ; 'twas a flower 



A child indeed might take pride in 

 A little rose, little rose, little red rose, 



Among the bushes hiding. 



