WILD ROSES BY THE RIVER GROW.
———
BY CAROLINE F. ORNE.
———
Wild roses by the river grow,
And lilies by the stream,
And there I pulled the blossoms fair
In young love’s happy dream.
The lilies bent upon the stem
In many a graceful twine,
But lighter was the slender form
Of her I dreamed was mine.
The wilding-rose hath fairer hues
Than other flowers have known,
But lovelier tints were on the cheek
Of her I called mine own.
I pulled my love the wilding-rose,
The lily-bell so frail,
Sudden the flowers were scattered far,
Reft by the envious gale.
So from my life was reft away
Love’s flower; I dwell alone,
Far severed by relentless fate
From her I called mine own.
Still by the river blooms the rose,
The lily by the stream,
I pull no more the blossoms fair,
Fled is love’s happy dream.