LOVE'S a flower, 'tis born and broken, Plucked apace, and hugged apart; Evening comes, it clings -- poor token -- Dead and dry, on lover's heart. Love's the rhyme of a summer minute Woven close like hum of flies; Sob of wind, and meaning in it Dies away, as summer dies. Love's a shimmery morning bubble Puffed all gay from pipe of noon; Spun aloft on breath of trouble -- Bursts in air -- is gone -- too soon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHURCH FLOORE by GEORGE HERBERT THE CUCKOO by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE ALBION QUEENS, ACT 1: THE WONDER by JOHN BANKS (17TH CENTURY-) SONNET: YE POETS by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HONOUR DISHONOURED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT MY DWELLING by FRANCES HALLEY BROCKETT WHITE FOXGLOVE by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN LINES [WRITTEN] IN THE TRAVELLER'S BOOK AT ORCHOMENUS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |