Live all thy sweet life thro', Sweet Rose, dew-sprent,Drop down thine evening dewTo gather it anewWhen day is bright: I fancy thou wast meantChiefly to give delight.
Sing in the silent sky, Glad soaring bird;Sing out thy notes on highTo sunbeam straying byOr passing cloud; Heedless if thou art heardSing thy full song aloud.
Oh that it were with me As with the flower;Blooming on its own treeFor butterfly and beeIts summer morns: That I might bloom mine hourA rose in spite of thorns.
Oh that my work were done As birds' that soarRejoicing in the sun:That when my time is runAnd daylight too, I so might rest once moreCool with refreshing dew.