Rose, you majesty-once, to the ancients, you were just a calyx with the simplest of rims. But for us, you are the full, the numberless flower, the inexhaustible countenance. In your wealth you seem to be wearing gown upon gown upon a body of nothing but light; yet each seperate petal is at the same time the negation of all clothing and the refusal of it. Your fragrance has been calling its sweetest names in our direction, for hundreds of years; suddenly it hangs in the air like fame. Even so, we have never known what to call it; we guess... And memory is filled with it unawares which we prayed for from hours that belong to us. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTOR GALBRAITH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW COLUMBUS [JANUARY, 1487] by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY MANNERLY MARGERY, MILK AND ALE by JOHN SKELTON THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE by HENRY WOTTON I COME SINGING by JOSEPH AUSLANDER RAISING THE DEVIL; A LEGEND OF CORNELIUS AGRIPPA by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |