Poems (Griffin)/Crushed Roses
CRUSHED ROSES.
I LOVE the pleasant odors
Wafted on the breeze of morn,
From the dewy cells of violets sweet,
Or the fragrant, blooming thorn.
Wafted on the breeze of morn,
From the dewy cells of violets sweet,
Or the fragrant, blooming thorn.
'Tis sweet to catch the passing breath
Of hyacinths in bloom,
When gentle winds disseminate
Their delicate perfume.
Of hyacinths in bloom,
When gentle winds disseminate
Their delicate perfume.
There's inspiration in the scent
Of thyme and wild-wood flowers;
And prophesying dreams are lent
To slumber 'neath their bowers.
Of thyme and wild-wood flowers;
And prophesying dreams are lent
To slumber 'neath their bowers.
But sweeter than the violet,
Or thyme, or blooming thorn,
Is the perfume of crushed roses,
On the evening breezes borne.
Or thyme, or blooming thorn,
Is the perfume of crushed roses,
On the evening breezes borne.