Poems (Edwards)/The Rose and the Pink
THE ROSE AND THE PINK.
The royal Rose, with her maidens fair,
Stole out in the hush of the evening air,
Their cheeks were bright with the hue of health,
And their hearts beat high with affection's wealth,
The world looked wond'rous bright to them,
And 'twas strange to see how each fragile stem,
Tossed to and fro on the balmy breeze,
And strove to mimic the grand old trees.
Stole out in the hush of the evening air,
Their cheeks were bright with the hue of health,
And their hearts beat high with affection's wealth,
The world looked wond'rous bright to them,
And 'twas strange to see how each fragile stem,
Tossed to and fro on the balmy breeze,
And strove to mimic the grand old trees.
By a calm clear stream in the shady wood,
The royal Rose and the sweet Pink stood,
And the young queen smiled in her heart's delight
As she saw her face in the waters bright,
Like a mirrored star, she sighed, "heighho!
Whoever saw such a face before,
Whoever saw such a form as mine?
I vow, through the water, it looks divine."
The royal Rose and the sweet Pink stood,
And the young queen smiled in her heart's delight
As she saw her face in the waters bright,
Like a mirrored star, she sighed, "heighho!
Whoever saw such a face before,
Whoever saw such a form as mine?
I vow, through the water, it looks divine."
The Pink looked up with a modest grace,
And gazed with a smile on the fair queen's face,
"My friend!" she said with a kindly air,
"It is folly to doat on your bright form there; *
It is wrong to be proud of those petals gay,
Which the breath of a zephyr might waft away,
And thy beautiful tints, they will quickly flee,
Then where, O! where, will thy beauty be?"
And gazed with a smile on the fair queen's face,
"My friend!" she said with a kindly air,
"It is folly to doat on your bright form there; *
It is wrong to be proud of those petals gay,
Which the breath of a zephyr might waft away,
And thy beautiful tints, they will quickly flee,
Then where, O! where, will thy beauty be?"
The Rose looked down with a glance of pride <
On the Pink that stood at her royal side,
"How now," she answered, "you low-born Pink,
To warn and rebuke me, how dare you think?
My cheeks are made of the richest dye,
And no flower on earth with my charms can vie,
And all who have lived, or yet may live,
Decided preference to me will give."
On the Pink that stood at her royal side,
"How now," she answered, "you low-born Pink,
To warn and rebuke me, how dare you think?
My cheeks are made of the richest dye,
And no flower on earth with my charms can vie,
And all who have lived, or yet may live,
Decided preference to me will give."
Just then the zephyr came singing by,
Low chanting his evening lullaby,
He rocked the flowers of every hue,
And covered them up with sheets of dew,
He gave to the Rose his fragrant sigh,—
But she looked so proud when he passed her by,
And her air was so scornful, so high and stiff,
That he changed his sigh to an angry whiff,
So trembling down, she fell from her stem,
And lost, in her fall, her diadem.
Low chanting his evening lullaby,
He rocked the flowers of every hue,
And covered them up with sheets of dew,
He gave to the Rose his fragrant sigh,—
But she looked so proud when he passed her by,
And her air was so scornful, so high and stiff,
That he changed his sigh to an angry whiff,
So trembling down, she fell from her stem,
And lost, in her fall, her diadem.
The Pink looked up from her grassy bed,
And brushed the dew from her delicate head,
"Alas!" she whispered, with tears of grief,
"That the bloom of beauty should be so brief,
Where now is the glory that shone just now,
Like a halo bright, on our young queen's brow?
It is best, it is best, by her early fall
Ye vain ones! remember, that thus fade all.
And brushed the dew from her delicate head,
"Alas!" she whispered, with tears of grief,
"That the bloom of beauty should be so brief,
Where now is the glory that shone just now,
Like a halo bright, on our young queen's brow?
It is best, it is best, by her early fall
Ye vain ones! remember, that thus fade all.