A sigh must then it’s colour show,
For that is the softest joy I know.
And sure the rose is like a sigh,
Borne just to soothe and then—to die.
NOTAS DE RODAPÉ:
[12] By a young lady born blind.
V.
A ROSA—UM SUSPIRO[13]
Se ésta flor tam bella e pura,
Que apenas uma hora dura,
Tem pintado no matiz