Those marble-lidded eyes unclose, Wake from thy sleep's angelic trance! I am the Spectre of a Rose That decked thy beauty in the dance. Thy fingers plucked me from my stem Wet with the dews of yester e'en And thou didst wear me, like a gem, Amid the ball-room's dazzling scene. My life's brief summer thou didst blight— My ghost away thou canst not chase: 'Twill flit untiring all the night Around thy softly-pillowed face. I claim no masses for my death, No @3De Profundis@1 slowly wailed: My spirit is a fragrant breath From Paradise itself exhaled. Torn from the world, I did not sigh, Nor could thy fondest lovers crave A happier death than mine to die— Thy snow-white bosom was my grave: And on that alabaster tomb A Poet wrote, with loving kiss: "Here lies a Rose, whose early doom E'en kings might envy for its bliss!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON GONE by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE NEEDLESS FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON THE CONTRETEMPS by THOMAS HARDY WITHOUT CEREMONY by THOMAS HARDY ASSAULT by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY |