The Rose / How fair is the rose what a beautiful flow'r in summer so fragrant and gay / But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour and they wither and die in a day ./ Yet The Rose has one powerful virtue to boast, above all the flowers of the field. / When its leaves are all dead and the colors lost how sweet a perfume it yields. / So frail is the youth and beauty of men, though they bloom and look gay like a rose / For all our fond care to preserve them is vain, time kills them as fast as he goes. / Then I'll not be proud of my youth or my beauty, since both of them wither and fade / But gain a good name by performing my duty, this will scent like a rose when I'm dead. / / To Winter / / When raging storms deform the air, and clouds of snow descend, / And the wide landscape bright and fair, no deepen'd colours blend. / Then let your boumeous hand extend, its blessings to the poor, / Nor spurn the wretched while they bend, all suppliant at your door. / / Ann Young Sydney December 13th 1849

Maker

Young, Anne

Date made

1849

Origin

Sydney, Nova Scotia Canada

Stitches

Cross, Algerian Eye, Flat Satin

In Bolton & Co.

No

Foundation Cloth

Linen

Embroidery Thread

Silk

Predominent Motif

1 alphabet: uppercase block: 26 letters. Diamond cross band separates the two verses. Strawberry vine border all four sides.

Inscription

The Rose / How fair is the rose what a beautiful flow'r in summer so fragrant and gay / But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour and they wither and die in a day ./ Yet The Rose has one powerful virtue to boast, above all the flowers of the field. / When its leaves are all dead and the colors lost how sweet a perfume it yields. / So frail is the youth and beauty of men, though they bloom and look gay like a rose / For all our fond care to preserve them is vain, time kills them as fast as he goes. / Then I'll not be proud of my youth or my beauty, since both of them wither and fade / But gain a good name by performing my duty, this will scent like a rose when I'm dead. / / To Winter / / When raging storms deform the air, and clouds of snow descend, / And the wide landscape bright and fair, no deepen'd colours blend. / Then let your boumeous hand extend, its blessings to the poor, / Nor spurn the wretched while they bend, all suppliant at your door. / / Ann Young Sydney December 13th 1849

Length Without Frame

47.1 cm

Width Without Frame

43.1 cm

Original Frame

No

Historical Owner

Inherited

Owner

Private collector

Owner Private

Anne Marie Schaus