I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT ONE TO SPARE by ETHEL LYNN BEERS THE PERSIANS (PERSAE): SALAMIS - MESSENGER by AESCHYLUS THE NIGHT SONG by MARY DELL ALLEN AMBITION by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A DRAMA OF EXILE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SILENCE IN THE CHURCH by ADA CAMBRIDGE THE PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAIN OF ST. GOTHARD. TO MY CHILDREN by GEORGIANA (SPENCER) CAVENDISH |