IN my Autumn garden I was fain To mourn among my scattered roses; Alas for that last rosebud which uncloses To Autumn's languid sun and rain When all the world is on the wane! Which has not felt the sweet constraint of June, Nor heard the nightingale in tune. Broad-faced asters by my garden walk, You are but coarse compared with roses: More choice, more dear that rose-bud which uncloses, Faint-scented, pinched, upon its stalk, That least and last which cold winds balk; A rose it is though least and last of all, A rose to me though at the fall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 7. AFTER THE FAIR by THOMAS HARDY THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACKBIRD by WALLACE STEVENS THE ARTIST PHILOSOPHER by DAISY MAUD BELLIS ELEGY ON THE LATE MISS BURNET, OF MONBODDO by ROBERT BURNS |