The Rosebuds
Yes, in that dainty ivory shrine,With those three pallid buds, I twineAnd fold away a dream divine!
One night they lay upon a breastWhere Love hath made his fragrant nest,And throned me as a life-long guest.
Near that chaste heart they seemed to meTypes of far fairer flowers to be—The rosebuds of a human tree!
Buds that shall bloom beside my hearth,And there be held of richer worthThan all the kingliest gems of earth.
Ah me! the pathos of the thought!I had not deemed she wanted aught;Yet what a tenderer charm it wrought!
I know not if she marked the flameThat lit my cheek, but not from shame,When one sweet image dimly came.
There was a murmur soft and low;White folds of cambric, parted slow;And little fingers played with snow!
How far my fancy dared to stray,A lover’s reverence needs not say—Enough—the vision passed away!
Passed in a mist of happy tears,While something in my trancèd earsHummed like the future in a seer’s!