She reach'd a rose-bud from the tree, And bit the tip and threw it by: My little rose, for you or me, The worst is over when we die! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST ON GOING UNNOTICED by ROBERT FROST LOVE'S MIRACLE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SOLDIER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TRANSPOSITIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 2. ILLINOIS by CLARENCE MAJOR |