She Wore a Wreath of Roses
Knight,J.P.
New York: 1857
She wore a wreath of roses the night
that first we met,
Her lovely face was smiling beneath her curls of jet;
Her footsteps had the lightness, Her voice the joyous tone,
The tokens of a youthful heart where sorrow is unknown;
I saw her but a moment,
Yet me thinks I see her now with the wreath of summer flowers upon her snowy
brow:
A wreath of orange blossoms when next
we met, she wore;
The expression of her features was more thoughtful than before;
And standing by her side was one who strove and not in vain to soothe her,
leaving that dear home she ne'er might view again; I sawher but a moment
Yet me thinks I see her now with the wreath of orange blossoms upon her
snowy brow.
And once again I see that brow no bridal wreath is there,
The widow's somber cap conceals her once luxuriant hair;
She weeps in silent solitude, and there is no one near
To press her hands within his own and wipe away the tear;
I see her broken hearted! Yet me thinks I see her now,
In the pride of youth and beauty, with a garland on her brow.