Herself a rose, who bore the Rose, <br />She bore the Rose and felt its thorn. <br />All loveliness new-born <br />Took on her bosom its repose, <br />And slept and woke there night and morn. <br />Lily herself, she bore the one <br />Fair Lily; sweeter, whiter, far <br />Than she or others are: <br />The Sun of Righteousness her Son, <br />She was His morning star. <br />She gracious, He essential Grace, <br />He was the Fountain, she the rill: <br />Her goodness to fulfil <br />And gladness, with proportioned pace <br />He led her steps through good and ill. <br />Christ's mirror she of grace and love, <br />Of beauty and of life and death: <br />By hope and love and faith <br />Transfigured to His likeness, 'Dove, <br />Spouse, Sister, Mother,' Jesus saith.<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/herself-a-rose-who-bore-the-rose/
