DOG ROSE
Then they all join hands and frolic away, singing as they go:
“Little flowerets gay and sweet
Hear the patter of our feet;
Little flowerets sweet and gay
Come and dance a roundelay!”
Then slower and slower fades the dance.
“O Christmas Rose! O Christmas Rose!” called Rusialka, on the particular night I am telling you of.
A little voice answered under the snow:
“I am here, good ladies!”
And the Christmas Rose, holding her blossom-standard in one hand, peeped out.
“Will you join our dance?” asked Rusialka.