TO A JACQUEMINOT ROSE
You beauteous thing, I'd much ado to take thee from thy sisters,
Because of thy stern body-guard of thorns, that never leave thee!
Though I am wounded, I care not!
I hold thee like a lovely thought:
In wonder.
Because of thy stern body-guard of thorns, that never leave thee!
Though I am wounded, I care not!
I hold thee like a lovely thought:
In wonder.
Ah thou wert wooed in leafy June, by cool winds soft and tender,
And kissed by sunbeams through the day and at night by silvery moonbeams.—
Then dewdrops cooled thy lovely lips
Refreshing to the very tips
Thy petals.
And kissed by sunbeams through the day and at night by silvery moonbeams.—
Then dewdrops cooled thy lovely lips
Refreshing to the very tips
Thy petals.
Ah thou wert rocked within thy calyx until one lovely morning
When thou didst tremble open wide: A thought of God perfected;
Then from thy heart sweet fragrance crept,
And through the summer air it swept.
Like incense.
When thou didst tremble open wide: A thought of God perfected;
Then from thy heart sweet fragrance crept,
And through the summer air it swept.
Like incense.
Thy petals are so soft and cool, as to my lips I press them,
That from thy heart to mine there springs a train of tender musings:
And fancies sweet as summer birds,—
Too sweet to find a voice in words,
Thrill through me.
That from thy heart to mine there springs a train of tender musings:
And fancies sweet as summer birds,—
Too sweet to find a voice in words,
Thrill through me.
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