LAKE COTTAGE, MELROSE.
FEBRUARY 22, 1854.
DEAR M———, I wish that you could see
This blooming, blushing rose,
And feel the same delightful thrill
That through my frame-work glows.
I'm sure it came from paradise—
'Twas fashioned by His hand;
He told some of the angel ones
To strew them o'er the land.
This blooming, blushing rose,
And feel the same delightful thrill
That through my frame-work glows.
I'm sure it came from paradise—
'Twas fashioned by His hand;
He told some of the angel ones
To strew them o'er the land.
Each petal bears a mystery—
A magnet in its heart;
For I am drawn unconsciously,
And tears, unbidden, start;
I ne'er could ask a richer gift
To cheer my winter-wearied eyes,—
The gems of ice and snowy drift
Contrasting with its crimson dyes.
A magnet in its heart;
For I am drawn unconsciously,
And tears, unbidden, start;
I ne'er could ask a richer gift
To cheer my winter-wearied eyes,—
The gems of ice and snowy drift
Contrasting with its crimson dyes.
It burst from out the dark green leaves,
That deck my flower-stand,
And lifts its queenly head above
The pink and lily bland.
That deck my flower-stand,
And lifts its queenly head above
The pink and lily bland.
