The Golden Rose

The Golden Rose

an Elizabethan sonnet by Petronilla de Chastelerault

Within an onyx labyrinth I woke,

Not knowing where my feet had gone before,

When it appeared, like Helios invoked-

Like saffron silk about an amber core-

Like citrine set about with liquid gold-

A rose that shone from deep within its heart

With grace unending, lovely to behold.

I wondered what divinely crafted art

Could to one blossom so much splendor give.

And even as it led me from the maze

I wondered if on earth its equal lived.

I’ve found not yet, though I’ve searched all my days

Through forests, fortresses, verses, and prose,

A greater beauty than the golden rose.