Poems (Katz)/My rose
MY ROSE
My rose, my rose, In the sunshine fair it grows,In my garden, in my garden, And I bury my face in its fragrant grace and beg its pardon.
But when men's thoughts shall Be illumined with things divine This rose of mine Shall raise its head and sing Oh! give me joy and bliss For higher things.
A "Smile from God," a kiss, a breath To light the wanderer, save from death. And then ascending up to God as incense rare, Going to Him who giveth all and hath to spare.