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Gathering Roses in Roumelia

I Two Homes.

KNOW a little leafy bower Where may and blackthorn are in flower, And, there, half hid from sight, Two little birds have made their nest, And, sun or shade, content they rest, And think the whole world bright.

I know a little cottage home, Where sweetest of sweet roses roam, And there, half hid from sight, Two loving hearts have made their nest, And, sun or shade, content they rest, And think the whole world bright.

The following is a beautiful German legend concerning the Moss-Rose:

T HE Angel of the flowers, one day, Beneath a Rose-tree sleeping lay- That spirit to whom charge is given To bathe young buds in dews of heaven; Awaking from his light repose, The Angel whispered to the Rose : "O fondest object of my care, Still fairest found where all are fair, १ For the sweet shade thou giv'st to me; Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee!" "Then," said the Rose, with deepened glow, "On me another grace bestow!"

The spirit paused in silent thought- What grace was there that flower had not? 'Twas but a moment-o'er the Rose A veil of moss the Angel throws; And, robed in Nature's simplest weed, Could there a flower that Rose exceed?