Page:Poems Hoffman.djvu/473

Time for the roses, plant gardens of roses,
Fair little Edens to brighten the years;
Wreathe the white cottage and garland the palace,
Richer than gold is each morn-jeweled chalice.
Greeting the sun with its dew-crystal tears,
Life would be grayer, dull care would be duller
But for their fragrance and beauty and color;
Every heart opens, all gateways unclose,
Long reign the beautiful conqueror, rose.

BROKEN HEARTS.

They beat beneath lace, jewels, flowers,
Fit decorations of their bier;
But none will stop to drop a tear,
Or watch through all the weary hours.

Or 'neath the cheapest garb they throb,
Their onward march to death and rest;
For night will come and it is best
For smothered sigh and stifled sob.

O do not scoff! If we could know
The sweetest faces that we meet
Smile above human hearts that beat
Sad minor strains in vespers low.

Hush, careless laugh and cruel jest,
Twine Sympathy's sweet flowers with Mirth;
Pray for the broken hearts of earth,
Deep buried in a faithful breast.

That broken harp that still sounds sweet,
Through night and storm, Hope's gladsome chords;
For wounded valor Earth hath words,
For this, the silence of defeat.

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