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...CHARLES AUGUSTUS FORTESCUE by HILAIRE BELLOC THE OLD WOMAN by JOSEPH CAMPBELL THE CASTLE OF CHILLON by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON FULL OF LIFE NOW by WALT WHITMAN BENEDICITE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PRAESTO by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - MAY/JUNE 1805 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |