THIS was the rose that yesterday Made my nook of the garden gay; Bonnie and blithe and debonair, Kissed of the sun and summer air, Sweet coquette in a ruffled dress, Glad of life and its loveliness. Would I had thought it greater sin Thus to pluck it and bring it in, Here where the dusk of the sunless room Blurred its beauty and killed its bloom, Till none would say this drooping thing Once was merriest child of Spring. Only a fading rose, and yet, Wakes in my heart a strange regret, Such as might come if one should see Columbine in her tragedy, Or a laughter-loving, little Pierrette, A sob in her throat and her blue eyes wet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IF HE SHOULD COME by EDWIN MARKHAM THE QUESTION by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 119 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 11. TO THE COUNTRY GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND by MARK AKENSIDE SHUT OUT by KATHARINE LEE BATES |