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THE ROSE BUSH. 333
Would yield you up to Him who gave, Fresh as the dew-drops bright;
Lay my fond treasure in the grave, And veil my soul in night.
But hope has sketch'd a path for you
Beneath a smiling sky, Where flowers shall bloom of loveliest hue—
The flowers of purity. Yes, hope has promises of bliss,
Pictures divinely fair, Which, like all earthly happiness,
May soon dissolve in air!
Fear whispers that a few short years
May find you side by side, Lone orphans, pouring forth your tears
Upon life's desert wide— But 0! whate'er your lot may be,
May some bright spirit come To guide your steps in purity
To a celestial home!
Dee. 8tl, 1843.
THE ROSE-BUSH.
It stands, adom'd with clust'ring leaves,
Just by the door-step here, Where June has hung her flowermg wreaths
For many a circling year. |
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