The Mystic Rose, by Elsa Barker

    I, WOMAN, am that wonder-breathing rose
    That blossoms in the garden of the King.
    In all the world there is no lovelier thing,
    And the learned stars no secret can disclose
    Deeper than mine–that almost no one knows.
    The perfume of my petals in the spring
    Is inspiration to all bards that sing
    Of love, the spirit’s lyric unrepose.

    Under my veil is hid the mystery
    Of unaccomplished aeons, and my breath
    The Master-Lover’s life replenisheth.
    The mortal garment that is worn by me
    The loom of Time renews continually;
    And when I die–the universe knows death.

    Elsa Barker, The Mystic Rose


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