IN THE ROSE-GARDEN by ROLAND LEIGHTON

Dew on the pink-flushed petals;
Roseate wings unfurled;
What can, I thought, be fairer
In all the world?

Steps that were fain but faltered
(What could she else have done?)
Passed from the arbour's shadow
Into the sun.

Noon and a scented glory,
Golden and pink and red;
'What after all are roses
To me?' I said.