“And the soul of the rose went into my blood, As the music clash'd in the hall; And long by the garden lake I stood, For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Our wood, that is dearer than all;…” Alfred, Lord Tennyson - From the poem, Maud, part 1.
John William Waterhouse - The Soul of the Rose, 1908.
