In my garden fair a rose On a long green branch was swaying, "The sweetest flower that blows," Whispered the wind in its straying. A hand reached over the wall, To gather my rose entrancing, A voice said, "Sweetest of all, Come!" and the rose went dancing. Empty my garden fair, Bare the long branch swinging; No butterflies linger there, No birds pause in their winging. I grieve not for sweetness gone, That the brief bright day is over, Dew-pearled in the radiant dawn, My rose, -- on the lips of a lover. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: AUX ITALIENS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON EMMELINE GRANGERFORD'S 'ODE TO STEPHEN DOLWING BOTS, DEC'D' by SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS THIRTY BOB A WEEK by JOHN DAVIDSON EPIGRAM: 118. ON GUT by BEN JONSON THE SHEPHERDESS by ALICE MEYNELL THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 7. SUPREME SURRENDER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI MINNIE AND WINNIE by ALFRED TENNYSON |