THE Poet talked with the happy Rose, And oft did the Rose repeat How all her care was but to be fair, And all her task to be sweet. Ah, rash was the Rose -- the tragic Rose! She hath bared to the poet her heart! And now he can take it, and crush and break it, And rich in its attar depart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 10 by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY BY BLUE ONTARIO'S SHORE by WALT WHITMAN E TENEBRIS [FROM THE SHADOWS] by OSCAR WILDE THE TABLES TURNED by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A CRADLE SONG by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |