Page 26 - GALIET ONEYOUME Mystic Poetry: On the Soul´s Journey to God IV
P. 26
O Rose, Precise Rose!
O Rose, Precise Rose!
How born of maple earth Your sweet scent dwells in my heart
3⁄4 Singing 3⁄4
O My Rose! Rose of Time!
Seek the glory of the tender sun! When heaven casts its last star upon my eyes!
O Rose, my Rose!
Bed this maple earth And shoot your loving sprout Towards heaven’s starry nest!
Before you stem thy toothed leaves That spring three, five, seven morns Just before just
You grow the first thorns
Like You I Seed.
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