BESIDE a Dial in the leafy close, Where every bush was burning with the Rose, With million roses falling flake by flake Upon the lawn in fading summer snows: I read the Persian Poet's rhyme of old, Each thought a ruby in a ring of gold -- Old thoughts so young, that, after all these years, They're writ on every rose-leaf yet unrolled. You may not know the secret tongue aright The Sunbeams on their rosy tablets write; Only a poet may perchance translate Those ruby-tinted hieroglyphs of light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING TO SIR HENRY GOODYERE by BEN JONSON THE PESSIMIST by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING THE DEAR PRESIDENT by JOHN JAMES PIATT MY MOTHER by WILLIAM BELL SCOTT THE SUN'S TRAVELS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON AS THE GREEK'S SIGNAL FLAME by WALT WHITMAN |