My Flower you would haply call a weed, Beneath a tree so sad and dark it grows; A little Flower which would fade indeed, Beside a spring-time lily or a rose. I love my Flower, which all others shun, Because its life hath known no light or sun. My Flower, hidden where the dark leaves part, I love because it is so like my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM by HENRY KIRKE WHITE A SOUL'S SOLILOQUY by WENONAH STEVENS ABBOTT THE FROGS: A 'EURIPIDEAN' CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SLEEPER'S COUNTENANCE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |