The single rose amid the dewy bowers,
That lured my soul to thoughts of purity.
As rivers glancing in the glorious sun,
Voice out their gladness to the perfumed air,
So ’neath the presence of that treasured one
My hopes were mirrored in a world more fair;
A magic world, within whose blesséd light
All things the richest and the best did come,
Bringing unto the weary dreams as bright
As those that flit around our quiet home.