JACINTHS and jessamines and jonquils sweet, All odorous pale flowers from Orient lands, No vain red roses strew I at thy feet, Emblems of grief and thee, with reverent hands. Mine is no madrigal of passionate joy, Or orison of aught less chaste than tears. Ruth on thy brow sits fairest. Its annoy Rends not thy beauty's raiment, nor the years. In thy shut lips what secrets! Who am I Should seek a sign at that dread sanctuary? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH IN BALLADE FORM by FRANCOIS VILLON INTERIM by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY MITHRIDATES by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE BRONCHO THAT WOULD NOT BE BROKEN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY TO THINK OF TIME by WALT WHITMAN WHEN YOU ARE OLD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TRISTRAM AND ISEULT by MATTHEW ARNOLD FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A NIGHT-SCENE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |