Never so fair a rose as this, I think,
E’er bloomed on a rose-tree;
So sweet a rose as this, I surely know,
Was never given to me.
Like the reviving draught to fainting lips,
The gentle word to strife,
Cool, fresh, and tender, in a bitter hour,
It dropt into my life.
Hid in the silence of a darkened room,
With sleepless eyes I lay,