Poems (Tynan)/Mountain Rose

by Katharine Tynan

MOUNTAIN ROSE

Cold and rough the North Wind blows,
 Black in the morning early.
Whom should I meet but Mountain Rose
 Among the stubble barley?

All the world is under snows;
 Blowing 'tis and snowing.
Whom should I meet but Mountain Rose
 The way that I was going?

Not a leaf on the poplar-tree,
 Not a flower on the heather.
Mountain Rose looked shyly at me
 As we stepped out together.

Mountain Rose, so airy and free,
 Where are roses blowing?
Rose's cheek, half-turned from me,
 The rose of love was showing.

Black and cold the North Wind blows,
 Never a bird is singing.
There 's a lilt in the voice of Rose
 Sweet as the skylark ringing.

Winter's black on heather and broom,
 Where shall I find honey?
Rose's mouth is the honeycomb,
 And Rose's laugh is sunny.

Black and cold the North Wind blows,
 Winter comes in fairly.
I keep Summer with Mountain Rose
 Among the stubble barley.