(TO A. P.) O ROYAL Rose! the Roman dress'd His feast with thee; thy petals press'd Augustan brows; thine odour fine, Mix'd with the three-times-mingled wine, Lent the long Thracian draught its zest. What marvel then, if host and guest, By Song, by Joy, by Thee caress'd, Half-trembled on the half-divine, O royal Rose! And yet -- and yet -- I love thee best In our old gardens of the West, Whether about my thatch thou twine, Or Hers, that brown-eyed maid of mine, Who lulls thee on her lawny breast, O royal Rose! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BURNING A DULL POEM; WRITTEN IN 1729 by JONATHAN SWIFT TO AN ISLE IN THE WATER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TWILIGHT SYMPHONY by LESLIE ANDERSON VIA CRUCIS by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT CRADLE SONG by FLORENCE EARLE COATES |