Poems (Howard)/When Roses Bloom Again

by Hattie Howard

When Roses Bloom Again.

With wasted form and countenance.
 Too frail and weak to rise,
An ever-longing, questioning glance
 Within her earnest eyes,
Upon her couch the sufferer lay,
And watched the slow hours pass away.

We bathed her brow, so young and fair,
 And touched her fading cheek
With gentle hand, but did not dare
 Our trembling fears to speak;
But trusted care and skill to know,
And baffle Life's insidious foe.

We said, "The winter shall be gone,
 And, whisp'ring through the trees,
And o'er the sun-crowned, grassy lawn,
 Spring-time's refreshing breeze
With healing wings shall sweep the plain,
And bring her roses back again."

"The balmy air, the bright sunshine,
 The odor of the flowers,
The song of birds, shall all combine,
 In coming vernal hours,
To cheat disease, and soon restore
To life its blush and bloom once more."

As in each heart this hopeful thought
 Grew every day more dear,
Beside her, though we knew it not,
 An angel hovered near,
Unseen, and beckoned her away
To realms of everlasting day.

Ere winter passed, was made a grave
 Beneath the frozen sod;
And in the spring shall grasses wave
 Where we in sadness trod,
And roses shall their sweet perfume
Exhale above a narrow tomb.

Dear heart, that never harbored guile,
 In thought, mature and wise,
A being, lent to earth awhile,
 But fitted for the skies;
Why weep that she is freed from pain
Before the roses bloom again?