Poems (Van Rensselaer)/Mary Roses: Como
MAY ROSES: COMO
The snow still lingers on the rugged crestWhere Alpine outposts envy Italy,Yet up and down our terraced slopes we see,Bordering the pathways, buds of pearly breastAnd crimson-bosomed open blossoms pressed,With jasmine's slender arm and starry eye,And vines of denser leaf, so thick, so nighTo the low parapets, that, unconfessed,The stones lie hid in their luxuriance;And where the bloom-girt way most steeply slants,The ruined tower that guards the lake's blue tranceShows by its shape alone, so deep the wallIs buried in wistaria's purple fallAnd countless clustered roses pink and small.