THE forward violet thus did I chide: -- Sweet thief, whence did thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love's breath? the purple pride Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells, In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed. The lily I condemned for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had stolen thy hair: The roses fearfully on thorns did stand, One blushing shame, another white despair; A third, nor red nor white, had stolen of both, And to this robbery had annexed thy breath; But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth A vengeful canker eat him up to death. More flowers I noted, yet I none could see, But sweet or color it had stolen from thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 1. AT TEA by THOMAS HARDY IN TIME OF GRIEF by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 119 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DISMANTLED SHIP by WALT WHITMAN A GIFT OF SPRING by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE PASSING OF WOODROW WILSON, PROPHET OF PEACE by VINCENT GODFREY BURNS IMMORTAL by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR EXTEMPORE VERSES ON A TRIAL OF SKILL BETWEEN MSSRS. FIGG AND SUTTON by JOHN BYROM |