Down this side of the gravel-walk WHY? WHY came the rose? Because the sun in shining, Found in the mould some atoms rare and fine: And stooping, drew and warmed them into growing, Dust, with the spirit's mystic countersign. What made the perfume? All his wondrous kisses Fell on the sweet red mouth, till, lost to sight, The love became too exquisite, and vanished Into a viewless rapture of the night. She went while her robe's edge brushed the box; Why did the rose die? Ah, why ask the question? And here she paused in her gracious talk To point me a moth on the milk-white phlox. Roses, ranged in valiant row, I will never think that she passed you by ! There is a time to love, a time to give ; She perished gladly, folding close the secret Wherein is garnered what it is to live. MARY LOUISE RITTER. |