100 POETRY OF THE ROSE. 



Through clouds and sunshine, storms and showers. 



They open'd into bloom, 

 Mingling their foliage and their flowers, 



Their beauty and perfume ; 

 While foster'd on its rising stem, 

 The bud became a purple gem. 



But soon their summer splendor pass'd, 



They faded in the wind ; 

 Yet were these Roses, to the last, 



The loveliest of their kind 

 Whose crimson leaves, in falling round, 

 Adorn'd and sanctified the ground. 



When thus were all their honors shorn. 



The bud-unfolding rose, 

 And blush'd and brighten'd, as the morn 



Prom dawn to sunrise glows ; 

 Till o'er each parent's drooping head 



The daughter's crowning glory spread. 



My friends, in youth's romantic prime, 



The golden age of man, 

 Like these twin Roses spend your time, 



Life's little less'ning span ; 

 Then be your breast as free from cares, 



Your hours as innocent as theirs. 



And in the infant bud that blows 



In your encircling arms, 

 Mark the dear promise of a Rose, 



The pledge of future charms, 

 That o'er your withering hours shall shine, 

 Fair and more fair as you decline : 



