How can the stone compare to the rose?
Does the stone possess the rose’s seemly beauty?
Does the stone draw the bee and produce it’s honey?
Can the hard rock feel winter’s gripping pain?
Oh beauteous maiden clad in thorny dress,
You stand in solemn seasonal youthfulness.
Did you ever stand in ages past?
Can you, like steadfast stone, through storms and seasons last?
Nea, beauty ends; upon the rock, love begins.