THE FADING ROSE BUD.

I had a lovely Rose bud, Just opening beauteously, I placed it on my bosom, And fair it was to see; My heart was proudly swelling, When every passer-by Admired my beauteous flower, That blossom’d but to die. Awhile it gaily flourish’d, Nursed by affection’s dew, And every passing hour, More beautiful it grew; Each tender leaf unfolding, A brilliant hue display’d; I thought a brighter flower Was surely never made. One day I saw it drooping, It leaned upon my breast; With paleness and with trembling, I saw it sink to rest; I knew not it was dying, Though paler still it grew; I vainly strove to save it, By all that love could do. I ask’d each passing zephyr To breathe upon my flower, And each reviving sunbeam To try its sovereign power; I gave each fond endearment, I water’d it with tears, But every moment brought me More agonizing fears. “O, must I lose my Rose bud, The only one I have? Is there no kind physician, My precious flower to save?” But vain was all my praying, A worm was at the core, And, leaning on my bosom, It withered more and more. At length I heard a whisper, “O, suffer it to come To me, the only Savior, And I will take it home; There, in my garden blooming, Are many buds like thine, In bright celestial beauty, Sweet flowers! how they shine!” I raised my tearful eyelids, And lo! a form of light, Just like the risen Savior, Then met my wond’ring sight; And while I strove to tell him That he might take it home, Again I heard him saying, “O, suffer it to come.” The glory round him shining Spread heavenly light afar, And in each hand extended, I saw the fatal scar; There too, I saw, with anguish, The wound upon his side; By these sad marks I knew him, ’Twas He—the Crucified! With sad heartbreaking sorrow, I kiss’d my faded flower, A long farewell I gave it, That well remember’d hour; One dark and painful struggle Now rack’d my tortured mind, And then, with sighs and weeping, My Rose bud I resign’d. ’Twas folded to his bosom, And, as he placed it there, I saw new life returning Beneath his fost’ring care; And though I felt so lonely, And throbb’d my heart with pain, I dared not, and I wish’d not To call it back again. And then the tender Savior Cast such a look on me, And said to me so sweetly, “Fear not, I’ll comfort thee,” That I in calmness waited To see them take their flight, And, in a cloud of glory, They vanish’d from my sight!