THE rose had been washed, just washed in a shower, Which Mary to Anna conveyed, The plentiful moisture encumbered the flower, And weighed down its beautiful head. The cup was all filled, and the leaves were all wet, And it seemed, to a fanciful view, To weep for the buds it had left with regret On the flourishing bush where it grew. I hastily seized it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drowned; And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas! I snapped it--it fell to the ground. "And such," I exclaimed, "is the pitiless part Some act by the delicate mind, Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart Already to sorrow resigned! "This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, Might have bloomed with its owner awhile; And the tear that is wiped with a little address May be followed perhaps by a smile." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 2. ILLINOIS by CLARENCE MAJOR A CORONAL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A PROPHECY by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE BEAUTIFUL LAND OF NOD by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX THE SPIRIT OF THE SABBATH by ISIDORE G. ASCHER THE ARCHERY MEETING by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY THE ROUNDHOUSE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET KASSANDRA PROPHESIES by GORDON BOTTOMLEY LORD EXMOUTH'S VICTORY AT ALGIERS, 1816 by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |