To a Friend who Sent Me Some Roses

As late I rambled in the happy fields,

   What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew

   From his lush clover covert, when anew

Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:

I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,

   A fresh-blown musk-rose. 'Twas the first that threw

   Its sweets upon the summer; graceful it grew

As is the wand that queen Titania wields.

And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,

   I thought the garden-rose it far excelled.

But when, O Wells! Thy roses came to me,

   My sense with their deliciousness was spelled;

Soft voices had they, that with tender plea

   Whispered of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquelled.