Vincent Van Gogh Gallery Gustav Klimt Gallery Paul Gauguin Gallery Jessie Willcox Smith Gallery Henri Matisse Gallery
Last Lines of Frances Sargent Locke Osgood
A breathing flower -- a half-blown rose? And bid them bless my fairy girl! And doubt before I love! Art thou smiling in thy bower still, -- and is thy smile for me? As the sunny weather. Before I am a Rose! For there a hero lies! Heaven cannot see him! I had now been safe in my native bower! Lose not their heavenly hue. My Ellen! wake -- and tell it me! My heart echoes to itI love!New England's Mountain-child! No! in future disclaim the sweet theft if you dare! Oh God! my boy -- my wife! Oh! sainted Marie! send this breaking heart relief! That fade in Love's deserted bowers! Unharm'd by tempest-shock, in Heaven's calm summer bower! When her little light feet first upbore her! Why would the silly rose-bud blow?