Volume XII. 
JUNE, 1883 . 
No. 6 . 
The bright and fervid sun of June, 
Shone down the garden walks at noon, 
Where summer roses sweetly bloomed, 
And all the summer air perfumed. 
The Red Rose said, “ I fain would go 
Where cool west winds serenely blow; 
The garden is too close and small, 
Too high and dismal is its wall.” 
The Yellow rose spoke up with pride, 
“ In halls of wealth I would abide; 
In jar or vase of costly ware, 
My perfect form would look most fair.” 
“ The tresses of some sweet young bride 
I would adorn,” the Moss Rose cried, 
“ My loveliness is much too rare, 
In any lowlier lot to share,” 
The Blush Rose said: “ I fain would bloom 
Within some lonely sick one’s room, 
Whose hours of pain and weariness, 
My presence there might cheer and bless.” 
“ I wish to rest,” the White Rose said, 
“ Upon the bosom of the dead, 
And letmy soft and fragrant breath 
Relieve the chilling taint of death.” 
The modest Sweet-Brier spoke at last, 
“ My humble lot I long to cast 
Among the poor who toil and sin, 
Amid the city’s ceaseless din. 
“ I would recall their early days 
Of simple joys and peaceful ways, 
The country walks wherein they strayed 
Through sunny field or woodland shade. 
“And through those memories of youth, 
With all its innocence and truth, 
A tender ray of hope divine, 
To cheer their present gloom should shine.” 
Mbs. Susie A. Bisbee. 
