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Henry Lea Twisleton

To a Cabbage Rose

Thy clustering leaves are steeped in splendour;
   No evening red, no morning dun,
Can show a hue as rich and tender
   As thine -- bright lover of the sun!

What wondrous hints of hidden glory,
   Of strains no human lips can sing;
What symbols rare of life's strange story,
   Dost thou from earth's dark bosom bring!

What elements have made thy sweetness,
   Thy glowing hue, thy emerald stem?
What hand has fashioned to completeness
   From tiny germ, thy diadem?

Thou art the fair earth's fond expression
   Of tenderness for heaven above --
The virgin blush that yields confession --
   Thou bright "ambassador of love"!

[...] Read more

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