Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! Let the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky ...
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew;
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self-same Power that brought me there brought you....
R. W. Emerson