AS in the gardens, all through May, the rose, Lovely, and young, and fair appareled, Makes sunrise jealous of her rosy red, When dawn upon the dew of dawning glows; Graces and Loves within her breast repose, The woods are faint with the sweet odor shed, Till rains and heavy suns have smitten dead The languid flower, and the loose leaves unclose,— So this, the perfect beauty of our days, When earth and heaven were vocal of her praise, The fates have slain, and her sweet soul reposes; And tears I bring, and sighs, and on her tomb Pour milk, and scatter buds of many a bloom, That dead, as living, she may be with roses. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE BERKSHIRE HILLS by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE YOUTH OF NATURE: WORDSWORTH'S COUNTRY by MATTHEW ARNOLD LAUGHING SONG, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE LESSER EPISTLES: TO A YOUNG LADY WITH SOME LAMPREYS by JOHN GAY IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON, FR. THE HELLENICS by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |