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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416846" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Sermon Of The Rose</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wilful we are in our infirmity<br>Of childish questioning and discontent.<br>Whate'er befalls us is divinely meant--<br>Thou Truth the clearer for thy mystery!<br>Make us to meet what is or is to be<br>With fervid welcome, knowing it is sent<br>To serve us in some way full excellent,<br>Though we discern it all belatedly.<br>The rose buds, and the rose blooms and the rose<br>Bows in the dews, and in its fulness, lo,<br>Is in the lover's hand,--then on the breast<br>Of her he loves,--and there dies.--And who knows<br>Which fate of all a rose may undergo<br>Is fairest, dearest, sweetest, loveliest?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, we are children: we will not mature.<br>A blessed gift must seem a theft; and tears<br>Must storm our eyes when but a joy appears<br>In drear disguise of sorrow; and how poor<br>We seem when we are richest,--most secure<br>Against all poverty the lifelong years<br>We yet must waste in childish doubts and fears<br>That, in despite of reason, still endure!<br>Alas! the sermon of the rose we will<br>Not wisely ponder; nor the sobs of grief<br>Lulled into sighs of rapture; nor the cry<br>Of fierce defiance that again is still.<br>Be patient--patient with our frail belief,<br>And stay it yet a little ere we die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O opulent life of ours, though dispossessed<br>Of treasure after treasure! Youth most fair<br>Went first, but left its priceless coil of hair--<br>Moaned over sleepless nights, kissed and caressed<br>Through drip and blur of tears the tenderest.<br>And next went Love--the ripe rose glowing there<br>Her very sister!... It is here; but where<br>Is she, of all the world the first and best?<br>And yet how sweet the sweet earth after rain--<br>How sweet the sunlight on the garden wall<br>Across the roses--and how sweetly flows<br>The limpid yodel of the brook again!<br>And yet--and yet how sweeter after all,<br>The smouldering sweetness of a dead red rose!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416846" data-title="The Sermon Of The Rose de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="Wilful we are in our infirmity
Of childish questioning and discontent.
Whate'er befalls us is divinely meant--
Thou Truth the clearer for thy mystery!
Make us to meet what is or is to be
With fervid welcome, knowing it is sent
To serve us in some ..."></div>
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