FROM out imprisoning petals — velvet red — Thy soul slips forth in fragrance wondrous sweet — A silent subtle presence — never fled, That makes thy mastery over me complete. How can I doubt God and eternal things When I look on thy beauty — lovely rose? A sudden certainty within me springs — The very gates of Heaven to me unclose! Hast thou, then, waited all this weary time From tiny bud to fullest crimson bloom — With hope and patience wondrously sublime Through dismal, dreary months of cold and gloom? Hast waited for my sake — heroic flower — That this great secret — hidden close with thee — Should in the sacred silence of this hour Be all unfolded and revealed to me? |