THE rose had been washed, just washed in a shower, Which Mary to Anna conveyed, The plentiful moisture encumbered the flower, And weighed down its beautiful head. The cup was all filled, and the leaves were all wet, And it seemed, to a fanciful view, To weep for the buds it had left with regret On the flourishing bush where it grew. I hastily seized it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drowned; And swinging it rudely, too rudely, alas! I snapped it--it fell to the ground. "And such," I exclaimed, "is the pitiless part Some act by the delicate mind, Regardless of wringing and breaking a heart Already to sorrow resigned! "This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, Might have bloomed with its owner awhile; And the tear that is wiped with a little address May be followed perhaps by a smile." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12. A RENUNCIATION by THOMAS CAMPION IN THE MOONLIGHT by THOMAS HARDY SPELT FROM SIBYL'S LEAVES by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE AGE OF WISDOM by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY ELEGIAC STANZAS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH MEMORY'S VISIT by DEAN ALETTA BAILLIE A FRAGMENT OF AN EPIC POEM, OCCASIONED BY THE LOSS OF A GAME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |