THE POETRY OF FL0WER3. 179 
THE LAY OF THE ROSE. 
BY ELIZAEETH B. BARRETT. 
“ Discordance that can accord ; 
And accordance to discord.” 
The Romaunt of Lie Ron 
A rose once pass’d within 
A garden, April-green, 
In her loneness, in her loneness, 
And the fairer for that oneness. 
A white rose, delicate. 
On a tall bough and straight, 
Early comer, April comer, 
Never waiting for the summer; 
Whose pretty gestes did win 
South winds to let her in, 
In her loneness, in her loneness, 
All the fairer for that oneness. 
“ For if I wait,” said she, 
“ Till times for roses be, 
For the musk rose, and the moss rose. 
Royal red and maid on blush rose, 
