A rose I set within my “Paradise”

Lo how his red is turned to yellowness,

Not withered but grown old in subtler wise

Between the empaged rime’s high holiness

Where Dante sings of that rose’s device

Which yellow is, with souls in blissfulness.

Rose whom I set within my paradise,

Donor of roses and of parching sighs,

Of golden lights and dark unhappiness,

Of hidden chains and silvery joyousness,

Hear how thy rose within my Dante lies,

O rose I set within my paradise.