THOU hast not toiled, sweet Rose, Yet needest rest; Softly thy petals close Upon thy breast, Like folded hands, of labor long oppressed. Naught knowest thou of sin, Yet tears are thine; Baptismal drops within Thy chalice shine, At morning's birth, at evening's calm decline. Alas! one day hath told The tale to thee! Thy tender leaves enfold Life's mystery: Its shadow falls alike on thee and me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONG OF ETERNITY IN TIME by SIDNEY LANIER THE KING OF SPAIN by MAXWELL BODENHEIM THE BANKS O' DOON by ROBERT BURNS QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON LIFE'S LITTLE DAY by MARY BALL ARMSTRONG SONG OF SOLOMON 2: 10-13. SPRING by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |