Droop, droop no more, or hang the head Ye Roses almost withered; Now strength, and newer Purple get, Each here declining Violet. O Primroses! let this day be A Resurrection unto ye; And to all flowers ally'd in blood, Or sworn to that sweet Sister-hood: For Health on Julia's cheek hath shed Clarret, and Creame commingled. And those her lips doe now appeare As beames of Corrall, but more cleare. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OBERMANN ONCE MORE by MATTHEW ARNOLD ACCIDENT IN ART by RICHARD HOVEY AFTER THE WINTER by CLAUDE MCKAY A CAMEO by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE COMPENSATIONS by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER |