[_Translated from Victor Hugo._]
WHISPERS the grave to the rose:
“With the dew that the dawn bestows,
What dost thou, love’s darling blossom?”
And the rose to the grave soft saith:
“And thou, dread abyss of death,
With them in thine awful bosom?”
But answers: “Mystical tomb,
From the dew I exhale in the gloom
Mine odor of amber and spices.”
Then the grave: “Ah, querulous flower!
Even so from each heart in my power
An angel to Heaven arises.”