A White Rose

How pure the light thy petals hold 

In fragrance on the tideless air!

How gently come the hands that mold

Nor break the sleep of color there!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ah, calm thy day, ere evening take

Her misty throne, upbuilt anew

Of starlit gloom, till dawn awake

The topaz hidden in the dew.

-       George Sterling[1]

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[1] George Sterling was born in 1869 in Sag Harbor, Long Island, New York, the eldest of nine children. His father was Dr. George A. Sterling, a physician who determined to make a priest of one of his sons; George attended Saint Charles College in Maryland for three years. There he developed an interest in poetry, but decided the priesthood was not for him. George’s mother Mary was from a wealthy family. Her brother, Frank C. Havens, went to San Francisco and established himself as a prominent lawyer and real estate developer. George followed his uncle west in 1890 and worked for 18 years as a real estate broker. He also became a poet. 

Sterling never became well known outside California, but he was a significant figure in Bohemian literary circles in northern California in the first quarter of the 20th century.  He helped develop the artists’ colony in Carmel; he was mentored by a much older Ambrose Bierce, and became close friends with Jack London. Sterling married, but before long began to have marital trouble. He had become an alcoholic, and perhaps an opium addict. His wife left. In 1926, he committed suicide by swallowing cyanide at his residence at the San Francisco Bohemian Club.  (Source: Wikipedia)