FOR THE AIR, "ROSE! THOU ART THE SWEETEST FLOWER."
OSE! thou art the fairest flower
That we have loved in childhood's hour;
Bright in that sweet morning's prime;
And still, in life's meridian time,
O'er thee thoughts of youth and Spring
A wreath of gladness seem to fling:
Then shine, sweet Rose! still brightly shine,
For hope and joy around thee twine.
Rose! thou art pale Memory's flower!
Many a bygone cheerful hour,
Scenes long past of joy or pain,
Thy mingled hues can wake again.
Dreams of happy years gone by
Are floating on thy fragrant sigh:
Then shine, sweet Rose! still calmly shine,
For Memory's pensive hues are thine!
E.