The rose lay dying in the summer heat And longed to save her life so fair and brief. A dryad, bathing in the noonday sun, Spied her and dropped a tear to show her grief. The panting bloom drank deep the sweetening drop -- And lived an hour to deck a singer's wreath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN ALIENS (TO YOU - EVERYWHERE! DEDICATED) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO BE LIKED BY YOU WOULD BE A CALAMITY by MARIANNE MOORE JEWISH LULLABY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |