ROSE. 
195 
Or pea with slender stem ; or spicy pink 
That opes her vermeil near the humble bed 
Of heart-reviving mint, 
And the wild origan ; 
Or roses cheek by cheek, bow’d laughing down 
Amidst their scolloped leafage, hiding there 
The tiny sleeping buds 
Scarce ting’d but with a blush. 
One, more than all that bloomed in that retreat, 
Its name although unknown, impressed itself 
Upon my sorrowing heart, 
I called it * Sarah’s love.’ 
For her cold hand, all motionless in death, 
Calm held the blossoms. Some were strewn 
to hide 
The dark cloud gathered round 
Her lovely faded eyes. 
And some were mingled with her auburn 
braids 
That clustered round her placid face; but sad 
I turned, nor saw again 
My Sister’s beauteous form. 
Oft have I wept at thoughts of her, and can 
But love those sweets that rested on her breast, 
That nameless flower was there; 
And thou, sweet-briar, too, 
