Red Rose

“ The song of the red, red rose that blossoms beyond the seas.
Would I could see it, the rose, when the light begins to fail,
And a lone white star in the West is glimmering on the mail;
The red, red passionate rose of the sacred blood of the Christ,
In the shining chalice of God, the cup of the Holy Grail.
The dusk comes gathering grey, and the darkness dims the West,
The oxen low to the byre, and all bells ring to rest;
But I ride over the moors, for the dusk still bides and waits,
That brims my soul with the glow of the rose that ends the Quest. ”

“ To-day I have put by the prodigious achievements of human art, and am living in the supreme hour of the rose. The town is ablaze with roses; the very streets and houses breathe them to my nostrils. For I have risen with the whimsey in my head, and all Nature is one blushing rose. The air is scented with the summer rain; the squares are joyous. There comes my mistress with a red rose at her bosom this merry morning. Drops sparkle between the petals; she wears the first white garment of the year; everywhere is a rose—a rose. ”

“ Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!
Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:
Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;
The Druid, gray, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,
Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;
And thine own sadness, whereof stars, grown old
In dancing silver sandalled on the sea,
Sing in their high and lonely melody.
Come near, that no more blinded by man's fate,
I find under the boughs of love and hate,
In all poor foolish things that live a day,
Eternal beauty wandering on her way. ”

“ Where there are thorns are roses, and I saw a line of red,
A little wreath of roses around His radiant head.
A red rose is His Sacred Heart, a white rose is His face,
And His breath has turned the barren world to a rich and flowery place. ”

“ Madame Bernard, for the thousandth time, looked at her curiously. From the shapely foot that tapped restlessly on the rug beneath her white lace gown, to the crown of dusky hair with red- gold lights in it, Rose was made for love—and Madame wondered how she had happened to miss it.
"Aunt Francesca," said Rose, with a whimsical sadness, "do you realise that I'm forty to-day?"
"That's nothing," returned the other, serenely. "Everybody has been forty, or will be, if they live."
"I haven't lived yet," Rose objected. "I've only been alive." ”

“ Soon there sprang up a climbing Rose vine from the grave of each, and meeting on the gable of the church, the lovers entwined in the lasting embrace which had been denied in life. Red Roses, because of their colour, have sometimes been supposed to have a relation to human blood. ”

“ The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
Oh, the red rose is a falcon.
And the white rose is a dove. ”

“ Do you know that every single one of them, down to the teeniest, tiniest baby, that you can hardly see, is a world of loveliness all by itself? There is the Rose Star, where gloriously deep red roses, and little shy yellow buds and pink lady-roses grow, and the air is sweeter than the sweetest perfume you can imagine. Then there is the Forget-me-not Star, all covered with the little blue flowers that look like Sister Margaret’s eyes; and the Violet Star, and Pansy Land, and Sun Flower Place (very large and important) [175] and heaps and heaps of other flower stars whose names I have forgotten. ”

“ A ROSE WILL FADE
You were always a dreamer. Rose, red Rose,
⁠As you swung on your perfumed spray,
Swinging, and all the world was true,
Swaying, what did it trouble you?
⁠A rose will fade in a day. ”

“ I choose the white rose to stand for the white wine, and for red wine the red rose. Indeed, they still cry in the streets, 'Come buy the good wine Rosette.' Roses, white and red, have mysterious and agreeable virtue, for from them is made a liquid, called rose water, that is good for healthy folk, and necessary for those that are ill, because it assuages strong fevers. It is refreshing to the face, and to the mouth and the hands. Many, indeed, wish their pillows, be it for sleeping or waking, may be scented with the fragrance of the Rose. ”

“ "SHE said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses," cried the young Student; "but in all my garden there is no red rose." ”

“ Upon the Restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to the Estates and Honours of his Ancestors.
High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.—
The words of ancient time I thus translate,
A festal Strain that hath been silent long.
"From Town to Town, from Tower to Tower,
The Red Rose is a gladsome Flower.
Her thirty years of Winter past,
The Red Rose is revived at last;
She lifts her head for endless spring,
For everlasting blossoming:
Both Roses flourish, Red and White. ”

“ White rose in red rose-garden
Is not so white;
Snowdrops that plead for pardon
And pine for fright
Because the hard East blows
Over their maiden rows
Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright. ”

“ I'm proud of you only don't grow quite out of sight, or even be ashamed to look a woman in the face,” answered Rose, with a gentle pat on the cheek of either bashful young giant, for both were red as peonies, though their boyish eyes were as clear and calm as summer lakes. ”

“ RED ROSES.
A cool red rose and a pink cut pink, a collapse and a sold hole, a little less hot. ”

“ you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own heart’s-blood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty. ”

“ White roses and red roses: those were beautiful colours to think of. And the cards for first place and second place and third place were beautiful colours too: pink and cream and lavender. Lavender and cream and pink roses were beautiful to think of. Perhaps a wild rose might be like those colours and he remembered the song about the wild rose blossoms on the little green place. But you could not have a green rose. But perhaps somewhere in the world you could. ”

“ Rushing Water did woo the Red Rose and asked her to share his lodge with him. But his heart is turned from her now. His love is given to another, and it is of this that the daughter of the chief has come here to-night.”
22
“The Red Rose’s words are strange ones. The Wizard of the Rocks can hardly credit the words she utters. Why should Rushing Water break his faith and turn away from her. Where in all the lands of the red-men can he find a mate that can compare with her?”
“Rushing Water seeks not for a mate among his people. His heart is turned away from the maidens of his own race. ”

“ All the world it knelt to woo.
⁠A rose will bloom in a day.
I gather your petals, Rose, red Rose,
⁠The petals he threw away.
And all the world derided you;
Ah ! the world, how well it knew
⁠A rose will fade in a day. ”

“ The end of the beard was jammed into a cleft of the tree, and the little man sprang about like a dog on a chain, and didn’t seem to know what he was to do. He glared at the girls with his fiery eyes, and screamed out: ‘What are you standing there for? can’t you come and help me?’ ‘What were you doing, little man?’ asked Rose-red. ‘You stupid, inquisitive goose!’ replied the dwarf; ‘I wanted to split the tree, in order to get little chips of wood for our kitchen fire; those thick logs that serve to make fires for coarse, greedy people like yourselves quite burn up all the little food we need. ”

“ The poets have not exaggerated the beauty of the red-hued Rose. She would be crowned Queen of the{84} Flowers by the most unpoetical. The emblem of all ages, the interpreter of all our feelings, the Rose mingles with our festivities, our joys, and our griefs. Its fragrance is as delightful as its hues; and no truer emblem of love and beauty could have been chosen. ”

“ Little white rose that I loved grew red,
⁠Roisin rua, Roisin rua!
Passionate tears I wept for you.
Love is more sweet than the world's fame—
I dream you back in my heart the same,
⁠Little white rose that I loved! ”

“ O my Luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June: O my Luve's like the melodie, That's sweetly play'd in tune. ”

“ On the slender branches hung their harps,—we call them cobwebs, and hear no sound, but to the delicate senses of the fairy folk there came airy melodies as the wind swept by. A broad-leaved plantain grew at the rose-tree's root, and there they spread their dainty meals;—little loaves of flower-dust and honey, fresh dew in red-brimmed moss-cups, a single berry prettily sliced on a lesser leaf, and eaten in acorn-cups, with cream from the milk-weed, and sugar from the red-clover blossom, whose deep cells the bees can never wholly rifle. ”

“ And this to the eye is the loveliest possible condition of color. Perhaps few people have ever asked themselves why they admire a rose so much more than all other flowers. If they consider, they will find, first, that red is, in a delicately gradated state, the loveliest of all pure colors; and secondly, that in the rose there is no shadow, except what is composed of color. All its shadows are fuller in color than its lights, owing to the translucency and reflective power of its leaves. ”

“ That's the way people do, you know."
Just then Honor Bright came out. "Hail, President Honor Bright!" they all cried.
Honor Bright thought they said, "I love you." And really, it meant the same thing.
Every day Rose-Red cut fresh flowers and arranged them for the house
ROSE-RED AND RUTHIE
It was Rose Mary's mother who named her Rose-Red. Rose-Ready, it was at first, because Rose Mary was always ready to help. Then it became just Rose-Red, for short.
Rose-Red had much of the sweetness of her name flower, and few of the thorns. That is why, when Ruthie slapped her, Rose-Red didn't slap back. ”

“ I was speaking of how curious it is that so many people who have reached roses—have ended their quest on the borders, at least that they linger so long. They raise red roses; they bring forth spicy June roses. In truth, the quest never ends. We do not stop at the Clovelly, which has so strangely gladdened our past summer. We pass from the red to the white to the pink roses—and then enter the garden of yellow roses, the search ever more passionate—until we begin to discover that which our hearts are searching for—not upon any plant but in ideal. ”

“ Rose smiled and bit her lip. "I think that's it," she murmured. "I've never cared for anybody—like that. At least, I don't think I have."
"'When in doubt, don't,'" resumed the other, taking refuge in a platitude. "Is there any one of that faithful procession whom you particularly regret?"
"No," answered Rose, truthfully.
"Love is like a vaccination," continued the little lady in grey, with seeming irrelevance. "When it takes, you don't have to be told."
Her tone was light, almost flippant, and Rose, in her turn, wondered at the woman and her marvellous self-control. ”

“ Just then a thorn pricked Rose-Red's finger. "You'd prick her, would you?" Rose-Red laughed. "That's because you are only a rose and don't know any better. It wouldn't be nice for a little girl to prick. I do know something better!"
Rose-Red chose six of the finest roses and carefully clipped off all their thorns. Then she ran to the gate between her yard and Ruthie's, and slipped them into a covered box beside it. This box was Rose-Red's and Ruthie's post office. Nearly every day something went into it from one little girl to the other. ”

“ Then out it spak their step-mither,
At the stair-foot stood she:
I'm plagued wi your troublesome noise!
What makes your melodie?
O Rose the Red, ye sing too loud,
White Lillie, your voice is strang;
But gin I live and brook my life,
I'se gar you change your sang.
'We maunna change our loud, loud song
For nae duke's son ye'll bear;
We winna change our loud, loud song,
But aye we'll sing the mair.
'We never sung the sang, mither,
But we'll sing ower again ”

“ With roses yellow, red, and white.
But, O my child, beware, beware!
Touch not the blossoms blowing there,
For every rose a thorn doth bear. ”

“ The White Rose became celebrated in English history as the badge of the house of York, in the War of the Roses. Among the ancients, who considered the Rose as the queen of flowers, it was the custom to crown new-married persons with a chaplet of Red and White Roses ”

“ I cannot tell you now;
When the wind's drive and whirl
Blow me along no longer,
And the wind's a whisper at last—
Maybe I'll tell you then—
some other time.
When the rose's flash to the sunset
Reels to the rack and the twist,
And the rose is a red bygone,
When the face I love is going
And the gate to the end shall clang,
And it's no use to beckon or say, "So long"—
Maybe I'll tell you then—
some other time.
I never knew any more beautiful than you:
I have hunted you under my thoughts,
I have broken down under the wind
And into the roses looking for you.
I shall never find any ”

“ Looking at her as she stood in her loose, slatternly negligé, beneath the extravagantly blazing chandelier, the red bundle cuddling a round black head into her neck, her grey eyes smiling at him, lit with love and laughter and a pity that lay deeper than both, Peter was caught into her atmosphere of debonair and tranquil restfulness, that said always, "Take life easy; nothing's worth worrying over, not problems or poverty or even one's sins." ”

“ You are, I verily believe, the only and original Rose of the World."
"Oh, no," answered Rose Mary lifting her long lashes for a second's glance at him; "I'm just the Rose of these Briars. Don't you know all over the world women are blooming on lovely tall stems, where they have planted themselves deep in home places and are drinking the Master's love and courage from both sun and rain. But if we don't go to rest some you'll wilt, Rambler, and I'll shatter. Be sure and take the glass of cream I put by your bed. ”