The Loveliest Rose in the World by Hans Christian Andersen There lived once a great queen in whose garden were found all seasons the most splendid flowers and from every land in the world She especially loved roses and Therefore she possessed the most beautiful varieties of this flower From the wild hedge rose with its apple scented leaves to the splendid province rose They grew near the shelter of the walls wound themselves round columns and window frames crept along passages and over the ceilings of the halls They were of every fragrance and color But care and sorrow dwelt within these halls The Queen lay upon a sickbed and the doctors declared that she must die There is still one thing that could save her said one of the wisest among them Bring her the loveliest rose in the world one which exhibits the purest and brightest love and If it is brought to her before her eyes close She will not die Then from all parts came those who brought roses that bloomed in every garden But they were not the right sort The flower must be one of the garden of love But which of the roses there showed forth the highest and purest love the poets saying of this rose The loveliest in the world and each named one which he considered worthy of that title and Intelligence of what was required was sent far and wide To every heart that beat with love to every class age and condition No one has yet named the flower said the wise man No one has pointed out the spot where it blooms and all its splendor It is not a rose from the coffin of Romeo and Juliet Or from the grave of Wahlberg Though these roses will live an everlasting song It is not one of the roses which sprouted forth from the blood-stained fame of Winkle Reed The blood which flows from the breast of a hero who dies for his country is sacred and his memory is sweet and No rose can be redder than the blood which flows from his veins Neither is it the magic flower of science to obtain which wondrous flower a man devotes many an hour of his fresh young life in sleepless nights in a lonely chamber I know where it blooms said a happy mother who came with her lovely child to the bedside of the Queen.
I Know where the loveliest rose in the world is It is seen on the blooming cheeks of my sweet child when it expresses the pure and holy love of infancy When refreshed by sleep it opens its eyes and smiles upon me with childlike affection This is a lovely rose said the wise man,
But there is one still more lovely Yes One far more lovely said one of the women I have seen it and a loftier and pure rose does not bloom But it was white like the leaves of a blush rose.
I Saw it on the cheeks of the Queen She has taken off her golden crown and through the long Dreary night she carried her sick child in her arms She wept over it Kissed it and prayed for it only as a mother can pray in that hour of her anguish Holy and wonderful and its might is the white rose of grief But it is not the one we seek No The loveliest rose in the world.
I saw at the Lord's table said the good old bishop.
I saw it shine as if an angel's face had appeared a young maiden knelt at the altar and renewed the vows made at her baptism and There were white roses and red roses on the blushing cheeks of that young girl She looked up to heaven with all the purity and love of her young spirit and All the expression of the highest and purest love May she be blessed said the wise man,
But no one has yet named the loveliest rose in the world Then there came into the room a child the Queen's little son tears stood in his eyes and glistened on his cheeks He carried a great book and the binding was a velvet with silver clasps mother cried the little boy only here what I have to read and the child seated himself by the bedside and Read from the book of him who suffered death on the cross to save all the men Even who are yet unborn?
He read Greater love hath no man than this And as he read a rose hue spread over the cheeks of the Queen and her eyes became so enlightened and clear that she saw from the leaves of the book a lovely rose spring forth a type of him who shed his blood on the cross I See it she said he who beholds this the loveliest rose on earth shall never die And this is the end of our story this evening until next time sweet dreams
