ROSE OF THE DESERT. 
Rose of the Desert! thou, whose blushing ray, 
Lonely and lovely, fleets unseen away; 
No hand to cull thee, none to woo thy sigh,— 
in vestal silence left to live and die,— 
Rose of the Desert! thus should woman be, 
Shining uncourted, lone and safe, like thee. 
Rose of the Garden, how unlike thy doom! 
Destined for others, not thyself, to bloom; 
Culled ere thy beauty lives through half its day; 
A moment cherished, and then cast away; 
Rose of the Garden! such is woman’s lot,— 
Worshipped, while blooming—when she fades, forgot. 
