Maxioms by Rose Terry Cooke
I wish I might a rose-bud grow
And thou wouldst cull me from the bower.
To place read more
I wish I might a rose-bud grow
And thou wouldst cull me from the bower.
To place me on that breast of snow
Where I should bloom a wintry flower.
Till the rose's lips grow pale
With her sighs.
Till the rose's lips grow pale
With her sighs.
"Take courage, soul!
Hold not thy strength in vain!
With faith o'ercome the steeps
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"Take courage, soul!
Hold not thy strength in vain!
With faith o'ercome the steeps
Thy God hath set for thee.
Beyond the Alpine summits of great pain
Lieth thine Italy."
