SONG. I PLUCKED for thee the wildling rose And there, till daylight's dusky close, I kissed its leaves, in fond despite I vowed no rose should rival mine, Though withered now, and pale, Till those are plucked, whose white buds twine Above thy bridal veil. -Bayard Taylor. THE TOKEN. Thou hast given me many roses, Can prove of immortality. Earth's stablest things are shadows, May tell of this old home: As now sometimes we seem to find, In a dark crevice of the mind, Some relic, which, long pondered o'er, Hints faintly at a life before. -James Russell Lowell. A WILD ROSE IN SEPTEMBER. O WILD red rose, what spell has stayed O wild red rose! Two faces glow At sight of thee, and two hearts share O sweet wild rose! O strong south wind! Alas! red rose, thy petals wilt; Our loving hands tend thee in vain : Yet joy, wild rose! Be glad, south wind! Ye shall live on, in two hearts shrined, With secrets which no words disclose. -H. H. |