I GIVE you Life, O child, a garden fair; I give you Love, a rose that blossoms there— I give a day to pluck it and to wear! I give you Death, O child—a boon more great— That, when your Rose has withered and 'tis late, You may pass out and, smiling, close the gate! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JOY (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON REVIEW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 14 by JAMES JOYCE ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE BLACK MONKEY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |