In this deep-hearted rose-cup! Bright moss-rose!
Though now so lorn, yet surely, gracious tree!
Once thou wert cherish’d! and, by human love,
Through many a summer duly visited
For thy bloom-offerings, which o’er festal board,
And youthful brow, and e’en the shaded couch
Of long-secluded sickness, may have shed
A joy, now lost.
Yet shall there still be joy,
Where God hath pour’d forth beauty, and the voice