THREE ROSES.

"OH, shall it be a red rose, a red rose, a red rose, A deep-tinted red rose?" said she. "In the sunny garden-closes How they burn, the dark-red roses! How they lift their glowing cups to me! "Oh, shall it be a blush rose, a blush rose, a blush rose, A dewy, dainty blush rose?" said she. "At its heart a flush so tender, With a veiled and softened splendor, How it droops its languid head toward me! "Oh, shall it be a white rose, a white rose, a white rose, A fair and shining white rose?" said she. "With its pale cheek tinted faintly, Like a vestal pure and saintly, Lo! it lights its silver lamp for me." Julia C.R. Dorr.