Part 2 — THE ROSE AND THORN
Reading edition
She's loveliest of the festal throng In delicate form and Grecian face,— A beautiful, incarnate song, A marvel of harmonious grace; And yet I know the truth I speak: From those gay groups she stands apart, A rose upon her tender cheek, A thorn within her heart.
Though bright her eyes' bewildering gleams, Fair tremulous lips and shining hair, A something born of mournful dreams Breathes round her sad enchanted air; No blithesome thoughts at hide and seek From out her dimples smiling start; If still the rose be on her cheek, A thorn is in her heart.
Young lover, tossed 'twixt hope and fear, Your whispered vow and yearning eyes Yon marble Clytie pillared near Could move as soon to soft replies: Or, if she thrill at words you speak, Love's memory prompts the sudden start; The rose has paled upon her cheek, The thorn has pierced her heart.
Paul Hamilton Hayne [1830-1886]