A flower was offered to me, Such a flower as May never bore; But I said "I've a pretty rose tree," And I passed the sweet flower o'er. Then I went to my pretty rose tree, To tend her by day and by night; But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POOR by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS RECUERDO by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 16. TO CALEB HARDINGE, M.D. by MARK AKENSIDE THE FIGHTING WORD by BERTON BRALEY GILBERT: 2. THE PARLOUR by CHARLOTTE BRONTE MAGNIFICENT CRY by HELEN BRYANT THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: CHRIST'S SYMPATHY by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |