A Rose in Candlelight

The oil in wild Aladdin's lamp
A witching radiance shed;
But when its Genie absent was
It languished, dull and dead.

Lo, now, the light that bathes this rose,
That wondrous red its cheek to give!
It breathes, “We, too, a secret share;
Fleeting we are, however fair;
And only representative.”
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