QUESTIONING A ROSE
It was fair, it was sweet,
And it blossomed at my feet.
"O thou peerless rose!" I said,
"Art thou heir to roses dead—
Roses that their petals shed
In the winds of long ago?
Who bequeathed to thee the glow
Of thy perfect, radiant heart?
What proud queen of fire and snow
Lived to make thee what thou art?
And it blossomed at my feet.
"O thou peerless rose!" I said,
"Art thou heir to roses dead—
Roses that their petals shed
In the winds of long ago?
Who bequeathed to thee the glow
Of thy perfect, radiant heart?
What proud queen of fire and snow
Lived to make thee what thou art?
"Who gave thee thy nameless grace
And the beauty of thy face,
Touched thy lips with fragrant wine,
Pledging thee in cups divine?
On some long-forgotten day,
When earth kept glad holiday,
One bright rose was born, I think,
Dewy, sweet, and soft and pink—
Born, more blest than others are,
To be thy progenitor!
And the beauty of thy face,
Touched thy lips with fragrant wine,
Pledging thee in cups divine?
On some long-forgotten day,
When earth kept glad holiday,
One bright rose was born, I think,
Dewy, sweet, and soft and pink—
Born, more blest than others are,
To be thy progenitor!
"Oh, the roses that have died.
In the unremembered Junes!
Oh, the roses that have sighed
Unto long-forgotten runes!
Dost thou know their secrets dear?
In the unremembered Junes!
Oh, the roses that have sighed
Unto long-forgotten runes!
Dost thou know their secrets dear?
