Lines to H. N. S.
On the Reception of a Rose.
O sweet, lovely flower,
For me didst thou bloom
In a far distant bower,
My path to perfume?
For me wast thou nourished,
In that dear, quiet spot,
To tell when thou flourished,
I was not forgot?
Thine image, loved sister,
In fancy I trace,
And joy in the vision,
To greet thine embrace;
But here I have never
Thy hand clasped in mine;
Yet round us forever,
Affection shall twine.
And oft this fond token
Shall whisper to me,
Of friendship unbroken,
In remembrance of thee.
Its freshness may perish;
But ne’er can depart
Its fragrance I cherish
So deep in my heart.