A ROSE
Where doth the rose's life begin—
Not in the tiny seed,
This hideth life itself within,
Some life doth hither lead!
Not in the tiny seed,
This hideth life itself within,
Some life doth hither lead!
And doth the little seedling die,
Or changeth Life his dress
To thus his former self deny
In words the roots express?
Or changeth Life his dress
To thus his former self deny
In words the roots express?
Where are the brown-masked colors hid—
Those rainbow-flakes, which feed
Each flower-growth the Lord doth bid
Come forth of pris'ning seed?
Those rainbow-flakes, which feed
Each flower-growth the Lord doth bid
Come forth of pris'ning seed?
If Hea'vn so feed the flow'rs which grow,
Of Earthly mother born,
What fath'ring life hath built below
The stall where feeds the thorn?
Of Earthly mother born,
What fath'ring life hath built below
The stall where feeds the thorn?
Sweet flower! thou but comest armed
With weapon God selects,
And, that thou mayest bless unharmed,
The thorn thy life protects!
With weapon God selects,
And, that thou mayest bless unharmed,
The thorn thy life protects!
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