African American Poetry (1870-1928): A Digital Anthology

Daniel Webster Davis, "A Rose" (1895)

This rose of the garden is given to me,
And to double its value 'twas given by thee;
And its beautiful tints to my eyesight is borne,
Like a kiss of a fairy, or blush of the morn.
How sweet the aroma that is wafted to me,
Let the scent of the breeze of the isles of the sea;
And it tells of the care of that Father above,
Who sends us the flowers to tell of his love.

But too soon must this sweet-scented flower decay,
Its bright leaves must wither, its scent die away,
But its memory lingers and the joys that it bore,
Will remain with me fondly, when the flower's no more.
Fond hopes too may perish, their leaves fade and die,
And great expectations all withered may lie;
But He who has loved us and given his Son,
Sets a sweet bow of promise and bids us hope on.
May our friendship ne'er perish, its strength ne'er decay,
But may it grow stronger and stronger each day;
And may the All Father his love o'er us bend,
Till life's journey's completed, and heaven the end.

Published in Idle Moments, 1895
Also published in Colored American Magazine, April 1901

This page has tags: