WILD ROSES BY THE RIVER GROW.

———

BY CAROLINE F. ORNE.

———

Wild roses by the river grow,

And lilies by the stream,

And there I pulled the blossoms fair

In young love’s happy dream.

The lilies bent upon the stem

In many a graceful twine,

But lighter was the slender form

Of her I dreamed was mine.

The wilding-rose hath fairer hues

Than other flowers have known,

But lovelier tints were on the cheek

Of her I called mine own.

I pulled my love the wilding-rose,

The lily-bell so frail,

Sudden the flowers were scattered far,

Reft by the envious gale.

So from my life was reft away

Love’s flower; I dwell alone,

Far severed by relentless fate

From her I called mine own.

Still by the river blooms the rose,

The lily by the stream,

I pull no more the blossoms fair,

Fled is love’s happy dream.