Wild Rose

Ah! Wild Rose blooming by the rustic way, Upon the hillside, or in meadows green, Or by the falling stream and drenched with spray, Where'er you grow, you still are Beauty's Queen. Each year, within the shaded mountain dell, The silken petals in the sunlight gleam; That gift unto the rose, Ah! who can tell, Sweet perfume as a dream within a dream? But once you ope to greet the rising sun, And one short night you slumber through the hours, Then drop the faded petals one by one, Your life and reign are ended, Queen of Flowers! HOPE. 3k= // IF