How sweet the sight of roses In English lanes of June, Where every flower uncloses To meet the kiss of noon. How strange the sight of roses — Roses both sweet and wild — Seen where a valley closes 'Mid mountain heights up-piled. Upon whose sides remaining Is strewn the purest snow, By its chill power restraining The tide of spring's soft glow. Yet God, who gave the pureness To yon fair mountain snow, Gives also the secureness Whereby these roses blow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECSTASY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BARNEY HAINSFEATHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VILLAGE IN LATE SUMMER by CARL SANDBURG PLAINT OF THE DISGUSTED BRITON IN THE STATES by GEORGE SANTAYANA |