ALL day with bright, appealing face, Upon my study table, A red, red rose asked me to give What gods were quite unable — Asked me to give it back again Into the garden's keeping, Where winds were low and there their tears The nightingales were weeping. Till eve I drank its wine perfume — My soul the nectar needed; Alas, how impotent was I To do the thing it pleaded; I could but drink, and drinking know I was its endless debtor — For who can pay the soul that heals His soul and breaks his fetter? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPECIAL PLEADING by SIDNEY LANIER THE CRY OF THE HUMAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING MEADOW-SAFFRON by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE FIELD WIRELESS by BENJAMIN ALBERT BOTKIN TO MARION by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |