JT-24-THE ROSE.

THE ROSE.

Within the garden there expands,
A blooming fragrant flower;
That captivates me, as it stands,
With its enchanting power.

Its modest grace, and sweet perfume,
So harmonize together,
Old Eden can’t its tints assume,
In lovely vernal weather!

Its sweet companions smile around,
And wave their proudest orders,
But such a beauty can’t be found,
In all the flowery borders.

Its dress is rich beyond compare,
Plain, humble, unassuming,
More beauteous than its kindred fair,
More od’rous, sweet and blooming.

Kind nature hath on it impress’d,
A rich perfume to lave it,
We long remember it is blest
Though winds annoy and wave it.

But, O! this sweet enchanting rose,
How thick with thorns surrounded--
I’ve tried to pluck it, as it grows,
But often have been wounded.

Its thorns have pierced me to the sense,
Before I thought of danger,
And frequently inflict offence,
To the incautious stranger.

The full blown rose will fade away,
Its glory soon be blighted,
Its beauty wither and decay,
Not worthy to be plighted.

There is a rose of sweeter grace,
And ever more inviting,
It is the lovely female face,
With all her charms delighting.

This lovely, captivating form,
The raptured soul surprises;
The stoic heart, her features warm,
While strange attachment rises.

Here virtue, beauty, grace conjoined,
In every blooming feature,
How tender, sweet and well refined,
Infatuating creature!

No jewel half so priz’d I see,
The best and richest treasure,
A faithful friend she’s prov’d to me,
The meed of human pleasure.

But, O! that bloom may soon decay,
With clouds be overshaded,
I would lament the ruthless day,
That saw her scath’d and faded.

But should the bloom in virtue shine,
I always will remember,
That tender friend--I call her mine,
In frosts of bleak December.

’Tis virtue that will never fade,
Let virtue’s robes adorn her,
I then will love her in the shade,
And will not, cannot scorn her.