A Song of a White Rose.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume 1, Issue 8, 1 May 1900, Page 575

A Song of a White Rose.

Out of her grave I dreamed she called : " Bring me a rose," she said ; " How can I sleep so pent and walled, With never a flower at head ? " " Dear heart, the cords of the world are tight : Dear heart, I cannot come. But I bring white roses every night In thought, though I am dumb. There's never a night, dear heart, " I said, " But I seek the 1 dream-world through ;— Never the yellow and never the red, But always the white for you. " Black was the winter low in the south, Black in the windy west. Ah ! for the clay on the comely month, And the flowerless long unrest !

I whispered into the midmost blue— ( How near, how deadly far ! ) " Dear heart, the Lord has mind of you, Though I nor make nor mar. The great white rose that wants the roots, The great white rose of death, Is sweet and cold at Head and foot, And still as angel-breath And dream you not that God is hard, Or I forget in mirth : — 0, sweet and cold the watch and ward Of the Snow Rose on earth ! " And was it all an empty song Of holy gage and hoar ? The Snow Rose it lieth long ; And she—she calls no more ! Jessie Mackay.