SAINTS are like roses when they flush rarest, Saints are like lilies when they bloom fairest, Saints are like violets sweetest of their kind: Bear in mind This to-day. Then tomorrow: All like roses rarer than the rarest, All like lilies fairer than the fairest, All like violets sweeter than we know. Be it so. To-morrow blots out sorrow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVIEW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WOMAN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON YOUNG LINCOLN by EDWIN MARKHAM HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 3 by EZRA POUND MIDSUMMER FROST (1) by ISAAC ROSENBERG |