Gertrude Hall

“ The rose is such a lady—
So stately, fresh, and sweet;
It joys to hold her image—
The rain pool at her feet.
They look such common lasses,
Those red pinks in a line;
The rose is such a lady—
So dignified and fine. ”

“ Your daring quelled, your little weed's life done.
And when the noon cools and the sun drops low,
He'll come again with his big wheelbarrow
And trundle you,—I don't know clearly where,—
But off—outside the dew, the light, the air.
Meantime—ah, yes! the air is very blue,
And gold the light, and diamond the dew,—
You laugh and courtesy in your worthless way,
And you are gay—oh, so exceeding gay!
You argue in your manner of a weed,
You did not make yourself grow from a seed,
You fancy you've a claim to standing-room,
You dream yourself a right to breathe and bloom. ”