Classic Poem

[ H. B. S. ]

I TOOK from my garden a rosebud;
It was sweet, it was fair;
I wore it awhile on my bosom;
It perished there.

" From whence comes this exquisite fragrance? "
Then I said, — for, in part,
I'd forgotten the beautiful rosebud
I wore on my heart.

And it answered me, — leaf by leaf drooping,
Fading still, fading slow, —
" Unmeasured in life, my full sweetness
Death makes you know! "

And I thought of a grave by the Euxine,
And my tears fell like rain:
But roses will wither, and loved ones
Return not again.