THE RED-LEAVED ROSE. 
25 
Small is the worth 
Of beauty from the light retired ; 
Bid her come forth, 
Suffer herself to be desired. 
And not blush so to be admired. 
Then die, that she— 
The common fate of all things rare— 
May read in thee. 
How small a part of time they share, 
That are so wondrous sweet and fair. 
Yet, though thou fade, 
From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise, 
And teach the maid 
That goodness Time’s rude hand defies; 
That virtue lives when beauty dies. 
Waller.* 
* The last verse was added by Henry Kirke White, upon his 
returning a copy of Waller’s Poems, which had been lent to him 
by a lady. 
D 
