She. THE dandelions in the grass Are blown to fairies' clocks; On this green bank I pluckt (Alas) The last of lady-smocks. He. Let them die, What care I? Roses come when field flowers pass. She. But these sun-sated sultry hours Will make your roses fall: Their large wide-open crimson flowers Must die like daisies small. He. Sweet as yet! I'll forget (When they die) they lived at all! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FORBIDDEN FRUIT: 2 by EMILY DICKINSON LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE GREEN ROADS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS UNEXPECTED FORTUNE by ABUL QASIM OF SILVES LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 1. LORD CRASHTON by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: I WILL SMILE NO MORE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT CITY HOSPITAL by MARGARET BODEN BREATH UPON A GLASS by MARY HOPE CABANISS THE LAMENT OF SIGISMUNDO IN LA VIDA ES SUENO by PEDRO CALDERON DE LA BARCA |