THE ROSE.
The rose, the sweetly-scented rose. The pride of summer’s bloom — Beyond ail other flow’rs it glows In beauty and perfume. 'Tis come in hey-day loveliness. In all its bright array, While summer's smiles of radiance bless And ev’ry scene is gat’. Meet type of tond’rest feeling, al 1 That vivid feeling warms; All hearts alive to beauty's call. Must own thy graceful, charms. I hail thee, queen of lovely flowers — “The light that gilds the page’’ Of Nature’s bland and florid hours, Proclaimed from age to age. Besides thy bloom’s most beauteous glow, Or yet thy fragrant spell, I’ve reason why 1 love thee so, Sweet rose, that I’ll not tell. Rsign o’er my bower, thou peerless gem, That bygone joys recall; The tide of thought ’twere vain to stem— I own its magic thrall. Dear, dear to mem’ry is the spread Of thy young beauty’s tint; Though youthful bliss, alas! be fled, How sweet the bright imprint. Then, hail, my charming, lovely rose! The pride cf summer’s bloom! Thou art the dearest flower that blows For beauty and perfume. —Shamrock.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW19130827.2.227
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 3102, 27 August 1913, Page 62
Word Count
183THE ROSE. Otago Witness, Issue 3102, 27 August 1913, Page 62
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