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THE ROSE OF SUMMER.
Child of the Summer, charming Rose,
No longer in confinement lie; A rise to light, thy form disclose,
Rival the spangles of the sky.
The rains are gone, the storms are o’er,
Winter retires to make thee way : Come, then, thou sweetly-blushing flow'r,
Come, lovely stranger, come away.
The sun is dress'd in beaming smiles,
To give thy beauties to the day; Young zephyrs wait with gentle gales,
To fan thy bosom as they play.
THE DOG ROSE.
The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new,
LADY OF THE LAKE.
The Rosebud swelled in Sharon's vale,
And bloom'd in Eden beauteously, It drank the breath of southern gale,
It prov'd the warmth of summer sky; But o'er thy growth no summer rose, But drifted lay the untrodden snows.
The Rose of England beamed of yore,
In lily and in crimson hue;
And sullied were its leaves to view;
Sweet innocence ! by mercy fed,
With light, and warmth, and shelter meet; Whilst winter all his horrors sped,
In drifted snow and driving slect ; Thus have I seen, in maiden form, A beauteous nursling of the storm!
Sweet purity! no grosser breath
Of fervid winds and scorching skies,
And, midst impurities arise;
Sweet messenger of triumph due,
O'er death in all his wintry pride, He cannot quench one living hue,
Which Heaven has destined to abide, Undimm'd ’midst Nature's dire decay, To blossom in eternal day.
I'll fix thee here beside my heart,
To calm its pulse, and check its play,
And chase the rankling thought away;
Ou, sooner shall the Rose of May
Mistake her own sweet nightingale,
Open her bosom's glowing veil *,
* A frequent image among Oriental poets.
The Angel of the Flowers, one day,
FROM THE GERMAN.
In the garden of Venus a Moss-rose grew,
As sweet as a morning in May ;
And left her, alas ! to decay.
As the twilight advancing stole out,
And fanned them in ether about.
And skipped round her withering stem ;
And decked her with many a gem.
As when in her earlier bloom;