The Rose Still Grows Beyond the Wall

 

 

Near a shady wall a rose once grew,

Budded and blossomed in God’s free light,

Watered and fed by morning dew,

Shedding its sweetness day and night.

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As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,

Slowly rising to loftier height,

It came to a crevice in the wall,

Through which there shone a beam of light.

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Onward it crept with added strength,

With never a thought of fear or pride

It followed the light through the crevice’s length

And unfolded itself on the other side.

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The light, the dew, the broadening view

Were found the same as they were before;

And it lost itself in beauties new,

Breathing its fragrance more and more.

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Shall claim of death cause us to grieve,

And make our courage faint or fail?

Nay!  Let us faith and hope receive:

The rose still grows beyond the wall.

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Scattering fragrance far and wide,

Just as it did in days of yore,

Just as it did on the other side,

Just as it will for evermore.

~A. L. Frink