– 54 –

Fortune

“At least we shall have roses” laughed my companion,
Looking on the bundles arrived from the nursery,
All with their labels tied up so neatly,
All with their shaven crests and roots so well developed—
“We shall always have roses here.”

“At least we shall have roses” this morning I repeated,
Looking on the summer’s lustrous assemblage,
Beholding the long shoots, as once before in spring-time,
Zestfully preparing for their latter blooming—
“We shall always have roses, here.”

Others may sail away to the sea-coasts of Bohemia,
Cathay, and Coromandel, Malay, and Patagonia,
Hong Kong, and Halifax, Bombay, and Pernambuco,
Frisco and Singapore, and all the world’s fine harbours—
Wistfully we may watch them loosed from our limitations,—
But for us, at least, roses, here.