Old Roses

Spirit of old-time roses, when the glow Of eventide steals softly through the trees Like rosy petals falling, and the breeze Grows hushed until it sings a love-song, low And sweet and tender, then I seem to know You too are somewhere near and watching these Last wondrous sights of day—God’s mysteries We used to watch together long ago. And, like a benediction, happiness Fills all my soul, as if a wandering breath From that high heaven had wafted down to me— As if I felt again your dear caress And knew you to be waiting e’er in death, Crowned with the roses of eternity.