And tear-stained the face of the girl,
Whose eyes were awake in Hope’s morning,
Love kindled their depths with his spark—
Even then, from the red velvet lining,
They glowed like a gem in the dark.
I turned to the sad little figure,
’Round the package the faded cord tied;
Pressed my lips to her cheek—ah, how sadly
The roses had bloomed there and died.
Long we sat in the lingering twilight,