Page:Poems Osgood.djvu/186

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176
the dying rose-bud's lament.

By thine anguish in that hour,
  Hour of wo and dread, when Death
Dared to stay the awful power,
   High, majestic, yet benign;
   Dared to seal the truths divine
  Which dwelt upon his breath!
By thy hope, thy trust, thy rapture, and thy grief,
Oh! sainted Marie! send this breaking heart relief!


THE DYING ROSE-BUD'S LAMENT.
Ah me! ah! wo is me!
That I should perish now,
With the dear sunlight just let in
Upon my balmy brow!

My leaves, instinct with glowing life,
Were quivering to unclose!
My happy heart with love was rife!
I was almost a Rose!