And of quiet rest
More deeply blest,
In the shade of the dark pine-tree.
A rose-tree lived ’neath this agéd one,
Concealed from the noontide rays of the sun,
And ’twas sweet to mark in his resting hour,
(The only time he could look on the flower,)
How he smiled on her lovingly,
Till her rosy hue
Still rosier grew,