Two Roses.
High on a lofty mountain
One blossomed in beauty rare,
The other bloomed in a valley,
And both were sweet and fair.
But the longing eyes of the maiden
Were fixed on the heights above,
“I will gather Fame’s fairest roses,
There is time enough for love.”
And she climbed the rugged mountain
Though the task was hard and long,
Though the path proved steep and weary,
For her heart was brave and strong.
But the sharp thorns wounded sorely
As she grasped the longed-for prize,
And she could not see its beauty
For the tears that dimmed her eyes.
But her heart grew soft and tender
Amid all her pain and woe,
As she thought of the fair, sweet flower
In the pleasant vale below.
But, alas, even while she tarried
Far up on the mountain side,
The beautiful rose in the valley
Had faded away and died.