A Provence rose

“ Cosy Corner Series ”
A PROVENCE ROSE
BY LOUISA DE LA RAMÉ (“OUIDA”)
ILLUSTRATED
BOSTON JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY 1894
Copyright, 1893 by Joseph Knight Company
A PROVENCE ROSE.
I was a Provence rose.
A little slender rose, with leaves of shining green and blossoms of purest white,—a little fragile thing, but fair, they said, growing in the casement in a chamber in a street.
I remember my birth-country well. A great wild garden, where roses grew together by millions and tens of millions, all tossing our bright heads in the light of a southern sun on the edge of an old, old city—old as Rome—whose ruins were clothed with the wild fig-tree and the scarlet blossom of the climbing creepers growing tall and free in our glad air of France.
I remember how the ruined aqueduct went like a dark shadow straight across the plains; how the green and golden lizards crept in and out and about amongst the grasses; how the cicala sang her song in the moist, sultry eves; how the women from the wells came trooping by, stately as monarchs, with their water-jars upon their heads; how the hot hush of the burning noons would fall, and all things droop and sleep except ourselves; how swift amongst us would dart the little blue-winged birds, and hide their heads in our white breasts and drink from our hearts the dew, and then hover above us in their gratitude, with sweet, faint music of their wings, till sunset came.
I remember— But what is the use? I am only a rose; a thing born for a day, to bloom and be gathered, and die. So you say: you must know. God gave you all created things for your pleasure and use. So you say.