THINE is the solitude that rare flowers know, Whose beauty holds the charm of secrecy; Of all the flowers that in the garden grow, None other has thy sweet supremacy. For thine's the oldest secret in the world: How to be loved, and still to keep apart -- Flower full blown, and bud not yet unfurled -- Gold-fortuned I, whose very breath thou art! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD ARM-CHAIR by ELIZA COOK THE BOOK [OF THE WORLD] by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN A TRUE HYMN [HYMNE] by GEORGE HERBERT TELLING THE BEES (A COLONIAL CUSTOM) by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE DEFEAT AND VICTORY by WALLACE RICE NOT DEAD, BUT GONE BEFORE by ANTIPHANES PET'S PUNISHMENT by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY |