Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The Winter Rose
The Winter Rose.
Hail, and farewell, thou lovely guest,
I may not woo thy stay,
The hues that paint thy blushing vest
Are fading fast away,
Like the returning tints that die
At evening from the western sky,
And melt in misty grey.
I may not woo thy stay,
The hues that paint thy blushing vest
Are fading fast away,
Like the returning tints that die
At evening from the western sky,
And melt in misty grey.
The morning sun thy beauties hailed,
Fresh from their mossy cell;
At eve his beam, in sorrow veiled,
Bade thee a sad farewell;
To-morrow's rays shall gild the spot
Where loosened from their fairy knot
The withering petals fell.
Fresh from their mossy cell;
At eve his beam, in sorrow veiled,
Bade thee a sad farewell;
To-morrow's rays shall gild the spot
Where loosened from their fairy knot
The withering petals fell.
Alas! on thy forsaken stem
My heart shall long recline,
And mourn the transitory gem,
And make the story mine:
So on my joyless wintry hour
Hath ope'd some bright and fragrant flower
With tints as soft as thine.
My heart shall long recline,
And mourn the transitory gem,
And make the story mine:
So on my joyless wintry hour
Hath ope'd some bright and fragrant flower
With tints as soft as thine.
Like thee the vision came and went,
Like thee it bloomed and fell,
In momentary pity sent
Of fairer climes to tell.
So frail its form, so short its stay,
That nought the lingering heart could say,
But hail, and fare thee well!
Like thee it bloomed and fell,
In momentary pity sent
Of fairer climes to tell.
So frail its form, so short its stay,
That nought the lingering heart could say,
But hail, and fare thee well!