Bohemian Poems, Ancient and Modern/The Rose
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
For works with similar titles, see The Rose.
THE ROSE.
THE rose it sweetly bloometh,
But whose then shall it be?
Ah! long long time I watch’d it,
Alas! unhappy me!
As long as undevelop’d,
And in the bud it grows,
There’s no one looks upon it,
Nor marks the coming rose.
O carefully I watch’d it,
Like pearls that precious be;
O then it was a promise
Of future bliss to me!
But soon as from the green leaves
An issue forth it found,
It was the admiration
Of all the lads around!