MY BEAUTIFUL ROSE.
A Primrose —the first, what a beauty ! 'tis bli»s To meet such a pretty peace-maker as this. s Tis strange, but last night I was dreaming I stood Between heaven and hell in a great cypi ess wood, World-weary, faint-hearted, and sick, when behold, A quaint little fairy came up through the mould, That chatted, whilst pushing aside the dead leaves, Of Summer's love tokens, and golden corn sheaves ; Then softly she told me bad thoughts were my foes— I wonder if that were this beautiful Rose. Welcome, dear herald, of all things sweet, Blossoming up beneath my feet ; Blooming with innocence, beaming with grace, Looking so lovingly up in my face ; Charming, chaste, delicate, dainty and fair, Bright bonnie angel-thing, mocking my care ; Bearing to mortals a message of love, Lifting my thoughts to the Eden above. Heaven has sent us glad tidings by thee, Beautiful Rose, thou art welcome to me.
Welcome her, zephyrs, that wander about, Wake all the Daisies that sleep in your route ; Call the gay Crocus and Violet blue, Bring out pure golden cups brimming with dew ; Lift the sweet Cowslip, and tempt the brown bee; Raise the light bluebells aud ring them with glee. Fie, naughty zephyr ; ah ! why do you stay Kissing this dear little virgin all day, Modest and pale as a soft summer moon ! Beautiful Rose, hast thou risen too soon ?
Welcome her, singing birds, silent so long, Greet her with carols, and praise her with song. Whistle, gay Finch, with the yellow gold's tinge; Laugh, merry Lark, by the fleecy cloud's fringe; Warble, gay pupils of Heaven's gooil king, Has He not sent her to tell you it's spring ? When were you ever su happy as now ? Flitting, like spirits, mid new budding boughs, Over the head of my beautiful Rose. Queen of the dingle, I knew a glad time, When 1 was as free as a, flowei from crime ; But I have wandered from Heaven. Ah ! me, What would I not give to be sinless like thee ! Dear little Rose, 'tis a mercy we met, I may be better and happier yet ; Hither, life hating, I came with a sigh, ! Weary with sorrow, and longing to die : But thou hast given my spirit repose. And I do love thee, uiy beautiful Rose.
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Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 135, 8 September 1870, Page 7
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387MY BEAUTIFUL ROSE. Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 135, 8 September 1870, Page 7
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