| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1663. My Rose |
| | | By Hildegarde Hawthorne |
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| ON a green slope, most fragrant with the spring, | |
| One sweet, fair day I planted a red rose, | |
| That grew, beneath my tender nourishing, | |
| So tall, so riotous of bloom, that those | |
| Who passed the little valley where it grew | 5 |
| Smiled at its beauty. All the air was sweet | |
| About it! Still I tended it, and knew | |
| That he would come, e’en as it grew complete. | |
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| And a day brought him! Up I led him, where | |
| In the warm sun my rose bloomed gloriously— | 10 |
| Smiling and saying, “So, is it not fair? | |
| And all for thee—all thine!” But he passed by | |
| Coldly, and answered, “Rose? I see no rose,” | |
| Leaving me standing in the barren vale | |
| Alone! alone! feeling the darkness close | 15 |
| Deep o’er my heart, and all my being fail. | |
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| Then came one, gently, yet with eager tread, | |
| Begging one rosebud—but my rose was dead. | |
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