The blighted blossoms bathed in tears.
“Ah, that’s the size of a rose.”
I said at last, “Oh, heart my own,
How large is the Rose, Sweet Sharon’s Rose?”
“Measured from Calvary’s suffering moan
Where mortals weep o’er their sins, and groan,
Up to Immanuel’s conquering throne,
Lo! that’s the size of the Rose.”
—James Albert Burchit.