Will the four letters, R, O, S, and E,
The rose’s hues and fragrance bring to thee?
Feed not on husks, but these strip off and feed
On the rich kernel, which is food indeed.
Say, who of choice would wash in arid sand,
While limpid streams were bubbling close at hand?
Bare Science is dry sand;—thy spirit’s wings
Bathe thou in Love’s delicious water-springs.
Be thou the bee, which ever to its cell
Not wax alone, but honey brings as well: