I'LL take that fainting rose Out of his breast; perhaps some sigh of his, Lives in the gyre of its kiss-coloured leaves. O pretty rose, hast thou thy flowery passions Then put thyself into a scented rage, And breathe on me some poisonous revenge. For it was I, thou languid, silken blush, Who orphaned thy green family of thee, In their closed infancy: therefore receive My life, and spread it on thy shrunken petals, And give to me thy pink, reclining death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MESSAGE, FR. THE FAIR MAID OF THE EXCHANGE by THOMAS HEYWOOD THE SHADOW DANCE by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 10 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HINT O' HAIRST by HEW AINSLIE AN EPISTLE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |