To a Friend who sent me Some Roses

As late I rambled in the happy fields,

      What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew

      From his lush clover covert;—when anew

Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:

I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,

      A fresh-blown musk-rose; 't was the first that threw

      Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew

As is the wand that Queen Titania wields.

And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,

      I thought the garden-rose it far excell'd:

But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me,

      My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd:

Soft voices had they, that with tender plea

      Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell'd.