JOHN DAVIDSON

Till the night Was undone In her fight With the sun.

The brave orb in state rose, And crimson he shone first ; While from the high vine Of heaven the dawn burst, Staining the great rose From sky-line to sky-line.

The red rose of morn

A white rose at noon turn'd;

But at sunset reborn

All red again soon burn'd.

Then the pale rose of noonday

RebloomM in the night,

And spectrally white

In the light Of the moon lay.

But the vast rose

Was scentless, And this is the reason : When the blast rose

Relentless,

And brought in due season The snow rose, the last rose Congeard in its breath, Then came with it treason ; The traitor was Death.

In lee-valleys crowded, The sheep and the birds

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