‘HE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 91 
THE LITTLE RED ROSE, 
FROM GOETHE. 
A pov caught sight of a rose in a bower— 
| A little rose slil ly hiding | 
| Among the boughs; O! the rose was bright || 
And young, and it eae like morning light, 
| The urchin sought it-with haste; ‘twas a flower 
A child indeed might = ke pride in— | 
A little rose, little rose, little red rose, | 
Among the bushes hiding. 
The wild boy shouted—‘‘ Ill pluck thee, rose, || 
Little rose vainly hiding | 
Among the boughs;’’ but the little rose spoke= | 
*¢T’ll prick thee, and that wil i prove no joke; 
Unhurt, O then will I mock thy woes, | 
Whilst thou thy folly art chiding.’’ || 
Little rose, little rose, little red rose, || 
Among the bushes hiding! 
But the rude boy laid his hands on the flower, 
The little rose vainly hiding 
Among the boughs; QO, the rose was caught, 
But it turned a again, and pricked and fought, 
And left with its spoiler a smart from that hour 
A pain for ever abiding ; 
[Little rose, little rose, little red rose, 
Among the bushes hiding! 

