THERE was a garden fenced with glowing flowers, Its queen's delight, and had we seen it, ours; And once as Amor culled, when wandering there, The richest chaplet for his flowing hair, His hand was wounded by a hidden thorn. Soon as he felt his tender fingers torn, And saw the bloody hand, away he flies, The large tear starting in his lovely eyes, And to his mother thus he made his moan, -- 'Whence have the roses, mother, hurtful grown? Why bear thy flowers a sting? They are my foes -- One colour hath the blood and one the rose.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DAY AND THE WORK by EDWIN MARKHAM CLOSING TIME AT THE SAN DIEGO ZOO by KAREN SWENSON THE SONG OF THE MAD WOMAN'S SON by KAREN SWENSON DOROTHY DANCES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN CINQUAIN: NIGHT WINDS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY IMITATIONS OF HORACE: ODE IV, 1 by ALEXANDER POPE |