When roses cease to bloom, dear, sir and violets are done, When bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the sun, The hand that paused to gather Upon this summer's day Will idle lie, in Auburn.-- Then take my flower, pray! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE SECOND DAY: LADY WENTWORTH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO MY FIRST LOVE, MY MOTHER by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 39 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE WRITER'S JOURNAL: POSSESSION by BAYARD TAYLOR IDYLLS OF THE KING: PELLEAS AND ETTARRE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE HINT O' HAIRST by HEW AINSLIE |