I GREW a rose within a garden fair, <br />And, tending it with more than loving care, <br />I thought how, with the glory of its bloom, <br />I should the darkness of my life illume; <br />And, watching, ever smiled to see the lusty bud <br />Drink freely in the summer sun to tinct its blood. <br />My rose began to open, and its hue <br />Was sweet to me as to it sun and dew; <br />I watched it taking on its ruddy flame <br />Until the day of perfect blooming came, <br />Then hasted I with smiles to find it blushing red — <br />Too late! Some thoughtless child had plucked my rose and fled!<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/promise-97/
