Our Wee White Rose

Gerald Massey (1828–1907)

ALL in our marriage garden

Grew, smiling up to God,

A bonnier flower than ever

Suckt the green warmth of the sod;

O, beautiful unfathomably

Its little life unfurled;

And crown of all things was our wee

White Rose of all the world.

From out a balmy bosom

Our bud of beauty grew;

It fed on smiles for sunshine,

On tears for daintier dew:

Aye nestling warm and tenderly,

Our leaves of love were curled

So close and close about our wee

White Rose of all the world.

With mystical faint fragrance

Our house of life she filled;

Revealed each hour some fairy tower

Where wingèd hopes might build!

We saw—though none like us might see—

Such precious promise pearled

Upon the petals of our wee

White Rose of all the world.

But evermore the halo

Of angel-light increased,

Like the mystery of moonlight

That folds some fairy feast.

Snow-white, snow-soft, snow-silently

Our darling bud upcurled,

And dropt i’ the grave—God’s lap—our wee

White Rose of all the world.

Our Rose was but in blossom,

Our life was but in spring,

When down the solemn midnight

We heard the spirits sing,

“Another bud of infancy

With holy dews impearled!”

And in their hands they bore our wee

White Rose of all the world.

You scarce could think so small a thing

Could leave a loss so large;

Her little light such shadow fling

From dawn to sunset’s marge.

In other springs our life may be

In bannered bloom unfurled,

But never, never match our wee

White Rose of all the world.

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