THREE roses, wan as moonlight and weighed down Each with its loveliness as with a crown, Drooped in a florist's window in a town. The first a lover bought. It lay at rest, Like flower on flower, that night, on Beauty's breast. The second rose, as virginal and fair, Shrunk in the tangles of a harlot's hair. The third, a widow, with new grief made wild, Shut in the icy palm of her dead child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A CHILD EMBRACING HIS MOTHER by THOMAS HOOD THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: JULY by EDMUND SPENSER TO A SNOWFLAKE by FRANCIS THOMPSON IMAGINATION by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE FOUR ZOAS: NIGHTS THE NINTH by WILLIAM BLAKE |