Ah me, if I grew sweet to man It was but as a rose that can No longer keep the breath that heaves And swells among its folded leaves. The pressing fragrance would unclose The flower, and I become a rose, That unimpeachable and fair Planted its sweetness in the air. No art I used men's love to draw; I lived but by my being's law, As roses are by heaven designed To bring the honey to the wind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AS THE GREEK'S SIGNAL FLAME by WALT WHITMAN THE ELDER'S WARNING; A LAY OF THE CONVOCATION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 42. 'GRECIAN AND ENGLISH' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) RUSTIC CHILDHOOD by WILLIAM BARNES PSALM 51 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE EASTERN TEMPEST by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE DREAMER by HUGH FRANCIS BLUNT CLIFF DWELLER LYRICS: A LITTLE NAP IN THE MORNING by BERTON BRALEY |