Anne Brontë,
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (1920 John Murray edition…
“ Pluck it, however, she did, and having gently dashed the glittering powder from its leaves, approached it to her lips and said:'This rose is not so fragrant as a summer flower, but it has stood through hardships none of them could bear: the cold rain of winter has sufficed to nourish it, and its faint sun to warm it; the bleak winds have not blanched it, or broken its stem, and the keen frost has not blighted it. Look, Gilbert, it is still fresh and blooming as a flower can be, with the cold snow even now on its petals. ”
