At morn I plucked a rose and gave it Thee,
A rose of joy and happy love and peace,
A rose with scarce a thorn :
But in the chillness of a second morn
My rose bush drooped, and all its gay increase
Was but one thorn that wounded me.
I plucked the thorn and offered it to Thee,
And for my thorn Thou gavest love and peace,
Not joy this mortal morn :
If Thou hast given much treasure for a thorn,
Wilt Thou not give me for my rose increase
Of gladness, and all sweets to me?
My thorny rose, my love and pain, to Thee
I offer ; and I set my heart in peace,
And rest upon my thorn :
For verily I think to-morrow morn
Shall bring me Paradise, my gift’s increase,
Yea, give Thy very Self to me.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
“A Rose Plant in Jericho”
Dated before 1876