But my robes were so full that the knots burst away,
And all my sweet roses fell into the sea.
A wave slowly bore them away from my sight,
Flaming forth like a cloud-billow rosy and red;
But on me you may breathe all their fragrance to-night,
For my bosom is sweet with the odors they shed.
ROSE-BUDS.
AFTER THE FRENCH OF BÉRANGER.