The Rose was given to man for this: br He, sudden seeing it in later years, br Should swift remember Love's first lingering kiss br And Grief's last lingering tears; br Or, being blind, should feel its yearning soul br Knit all its piercing perfume round his own, br Till he should see on memory's ample scroll br All roses he had known; br br Or, being hard, perchance his finger-tips br Careless might touch the satin of its cup, br And he should feel a dead babe's budding lips br To his lips lifted up; br br Or, being deaf and smitten with its star, br Should, on a sudden, almost hear a lark br Rush singing up­the nightingale afar br Sing through the dew-bright dark; br br Or, sorrow-lost in paths that round and round br Circle old graves, its keen and vital breath br Should call to him within the yew's bleak bound br Of Life, and not of Death.