Songs of the Soul/Part 2/Undying Beauty

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UNDYING BEAUTY

They did their bestAnd they are blest,—The sap, the shoots,The little leaves and roots;The benign breath,The touch of light,—All worked in amityTo grow the rose’s beauty.Watch its splendor,Its undying grandeur,The Infinite FaceThat peeps through its little case;—Watch not in griefIts falling petals or its briefSojourn here;—For its careerDone, its duty ends;Toward the Immortals’ home it tends.The sap dried,The summer petals fled, ​ Its body pines;Yet its death ’s divine;Through death and spurnsIts deathless glory won:The rose is dead,—Its beauty lives instead.
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