A World of Roses

SHE had a world of roses
For half a wondrous day.
(It was the thorny season,
The summer far away.)

From space unknown they rallied,
By rhythmic charm compelled;
Their faces pale or crimson
Close to her own they held.

She laughed amid her rose-guard, —
It was a merry rout,
That mocked the thorny season,
And shut its white face out.

Each rose its heart did open,
All tropic rich and sweet;
Each rose-heart, kind and courtly,
With her own heart did beat.

Untouched by time or canker,
They fled, and left no trace.
(And then the thorny season
Thrust in its blanchèd face.)

Had she not wiselier chosen
For every day a lose,
Instead of this brief revel
From elfland’s garden-close ?

Howe’er it be I know not;
This only will she say,
“ I had my world of roses
For half a wondrous day ! ”