Lake Cottage, Melrose

DEAR M———, I wish that you could seeThis blooming, blushing rose,And feel the same delightful thrillThat through my frame-work glows.I'm sure it came from paradise—'Twas fashioned by His hand;He told some of the angel onesTo strew them o'er the land.

Each petal bears a mystery—A magnet in its heart;For I am drawn unconsciously,And tears, unbidden, start;I ne'er could ask a richer giftTo cheer my winter-wearied eyes,—The gems of ice and snowy driftContrasting with its crimson dyes.

It burst from out the dark green leaves,That deck my flower-stand,And lifts its queenly head aboveThe pink and lily bland.I thought 'twould ope a week ago,And placed it in the sun;But then I found it would not blowTill the birth of Washington.

Then when I'm sad and sick at heart,O bring to me a rose;Sweet consolation it imparts,And rich perfume bestows.Thrice welcome are you, beauteous flower,To cheer our home on this great day;So emblematic of our power—Bud, blossom, then decay.