JACINTHS and jessamines and jonquils sweet, All odorous pale flowers from Orient lands, No vain red roses strew I at thy feet, Emblems of grief and thee, with reverent hands. Mine is no madrigal of passionate joy, Or orison of aught less chaste than tears. Ruth on thy brow sits fairest. Its annoy Rends not thy beauty's raiment, nor the years. In thy shut lips what secrets! Who am I Should seek a sign at that dread sanctuary? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK REGIMENT by GEORGE HENRY BOKER AN AUGUST MIDNIGHT by THOMAS HARDY DEATH AND CUPID; AN ALLEGORY by JOHN GODFREY SAXE THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 1 by MARK AKENSIDE ON THE DEATH OF JAZZ by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS WINTER IN IRELAND by CHARLES BEWLEY THE SPECIAL DARLING by ALICE CARY LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 1806 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |