She passed as a ray of sunshine
O'er the dark, piazza floor; And the gloaming turned to noonday
As she neared the open door, And in her white and dainty hands
A precious gift she bore.

Thou baby rose! from parent stem
Far traveller from my heart's first shrine; Sweet breathings of the olden days
Speak from each tiny leaf of thine; Thou! velvet-clad in robes of state;
Rich-crimsoned of the Hand Divine.

Sweet art thou as the dreams of youth
Or dew-drops glist 'neath orient ray; Still, smiling in thy fair, young bloom
Thou'rt frail and perishing as they; Yet, aftermath of glory-light
Doth rise o'er darkness and decay.