Classic Poem

By soft showers and sunlight fed,
Nature's art discloses,
Pink and white, and royal red,
A world of blushing roses.

Wandering at their own sweet will,
They paint the dullest places,
Or lean across the window-sill
With love-compelling faces.

Such a grace about them clings,
Such an odor hovers,
That these wild and wayward things
Count us all their lovers.

Bloom, O roses! rich and sweet;
May no worm o'ertake you!
June is only half complete
Till the sunbeams wake you.