Page:Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833.pdf/3

Yet, O festal Rose!
    I have seen thee lying
In thy bright repose,
    Pillowed with the dying,

Thy crimson by the lip whence life's quick blood was flying.

Summer, Life, and Love,
    O'er that bed of pain,
Met in thee, yet wove
    Too, too frail a chain

In its embracing links, the lovely to detain.

Smil'st thou, gorgeous flower?
    Oh! within the spells
Of thy beauty's power,
    Something dimly dwells

At variance with a world of sorrows and farewells!

All the soul, forth flowing
    With that rich perfume,
All the proud life, glowing
    In that radiant bloom,

Have they no place but here, beneath th' o'ershadowing tomb?

Crown'st thou but the daughters
    Of our tearful race?
Heaven's own purest waters
    Well might wear the trace

Of thy consummate form, melting to softer grace!

Will that clime enfold thee
    With immortal air?
Shall we not behold thee
    Bright and deathless there,

In spirit-lustre clothed, transcendantly more fair?

Yes, my fancy sees thee
    In that light disclose,
And its dream thus frees thee
    From the mist of woes,

Darkening thine earthly bowers, O bridal, royal Rose!