Mother and child

One night a tiny dewdrop fell
Into the bosom of a rose,–
“Dear little one, I love thee well,
Be ever here thy sweet repose!”

Seeing the rose with love bedight,
The envious sky frowned dark, and then
Sent forth a messenger of light
And caught the dewdrop up again.

“Oh, give me back my heavenly child,–
My love!” the rose in anguish cried;
Alas! the sky triumphant smiled,
And so the flower, heart-broken, died.