Ask what thou wilt, ’tis granted thee.’
‘Then,’ saith the rose, with deepened glow,
‘On me another grace bestow.’
The spirit paused in silent thought,
What grace was there that flower had not?
’Twas but a moment; o’er the rose
A veil of moss the angel throws;
And robed in nature’s simplest weed,
Could there a flower that rose exceed?
There is another variety of this which is known as the