A Lesson From The Rose Bush

By Howard Carleton Tripp

Beside a limpid stream a rose bush grew;
Its blossoms filled the air with rich perfume,
Upon it fell the summer’s sun and dew,
The autumn gales swept roughly o’er its tomb.

Such are the scenes of life, — in childhood’s hours
Hope comes to still the cares within the breast,
And like the rose bush with its flagrant flowers
Old age comes on and we are laid to rest.

The rose bush can this lesson well unfold:
Strive to excel in being good and wise.
Oh, learn it, children, ere thy lives are old!
Neath its foundation all thy glory lies.

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