Under wide skies, under gray showers, The sweet, wild rose is the queen of flowers. Up to the sun, her chaste, shy face, She yields with charm and a dainty grace. She is not vain, this prairie bride, But she has thorns to defend her pride. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NORTH-WEST PASSAGE: 3. IN PORT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON SONG OF THE ANGELS AT THE NATIVITY by NAHUM TATE LONDON, 1802 (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE RELAPSE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE HOLLYHOCKS by CRAVEN LANGSTROTH BETTS SHADOWS OF CRIME by LEVI BISHOP BELLS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |