IF 'twere fair to suppose That your heart were not taken, That the dew from the rose Petals still were not shaken, I should pluck you, Howe'er you should thorn me and scorn me, And wear you for life as the green of the bower. If 'twere fair to suppose That that road was for vagrants, That the wind and the rose, Counted all in their fragrance; Oh, my dear one, By love, I should take you and make you, The green of my life from the scintillant hour. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE by EMILY DICKINSON ENDYMION by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW RUNNING THE BATTERIES by HERMAN MELVILLE TO THE QUEEN by ALFRED TENNYSON ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 8. ON LEAVING HOLLAND by MARK AKENSIDE THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. DIET by JOHN ARMSTRONG |