A White Rose Margaret! pearl! I have sought and found you; 635 Clement Scott [1841-1904] "I NEVER COULD LOVE TILL NOW" WHEN I gazed on a beautiful face, Or a form which my fancy approved, I was pleased with its sweetness and grace, But my heart, though I strove to deceive, I could look, I could like, I could leave, Yet though I from others could rove, On your hand, that pure altar, I vow, Though I've looked, and I've liked, and have left- Matthew Gregory Lewis [1775-1818] A WHITE ROSE THE red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; Oh, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rosebud For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on the lips. John Boyle O'Reilly [1844-1890] "SOME DAY OF DAYS" SOME day, some day of days, threading the street I shall behold your face! Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet. Perchance the sun may shine from skies of May, Touch whitely vale and hill. What matter? I shall thrill Through every vein with summer on that day. Once more life's perfect youth will all come back, I shall stand fresh and fair, And drop the garment care; Once more my perfect youth will nothing lack. I shut my eyes now, thinking how 'twill be- Will slip its long control, Forget the dismal dole Of dreary Fate's dark, separating sea; And glance to glance, and hand to hand in greeting, The past with all its fears, Its silences and tears, Its lonely, yearning years, Shall vanish in the moment of that meeting. Nora Perry [1832-1896] "MY DEARLING" My Dearling!-thus, in days long fled, And dearly purchased, too, I wean! Where Love is Poor child! she played a losing game: You count men's hearts as something worth? I'd rather have my own fair head Than all the hearts that ever bled! "My Dearling!" with a love most true, I breathe that name my prayers between; The hapless fate of Anne Boleyn! 637 Elizabeth Akers [1832-1911] WHERE LOVE IS By the rosy cliffs of Devon, on a green hill's crest, I would build me a house as a swallow builds her nest; I would curtain it with roses, and the wind should breathe to me The sweetness of the roses and the saltness of the sea. Where the Tuscan olives whiten in the hot blue day, I would hide me from the heat in a little hut of gray, green lattice From the golden rows of barley that the poppies blaze between. Narrow is the street, Dear, and dingy are the walls Wherein I wait your coming as the twilight falls. All day with dreams I gild the grime till at your step I startAh Love, my country in your arms-iny home upon your heart! Amelia Josephine Burr [18 THAT DAY YOU CAME SUCH special sweetness was about Their common way the great winds blew, Yet ere that day was spent I knew As after song some snatch of tune The young year sets the buds astir, But ever in my lavender I hear the brawling bees. Lizette Woodworth Reese [1856 AMANTIUM IRE WHEN this, our rose, is faded, Or in our place of shadows Shall still we stretch an hand To green, remembered meadows, In a Rose Garden And vainly there foregathered, Shall we regret the sun? Ah, child! the world's dark marges Sail for an unknown shore, Our pride! Ah, should we miss it, 639 Ernest Dowson [1867-1900] IN A ROSE GARDEN A HUNDRED years from now, dear heart, We shall not care at all. It will not matter then a whit, The honey or the gall. The summer days that we have known Will all forgotten be and flown; The garden will be overgrown Where now the roses fall. A hundred years from now, dear heart, The throbbing crimson tide of life |