There are two sisters, one is a rose, And no one knows what the other is. The first says go and the other goes Or come and she comes, or that, or this, And sometimes not a word is said, Yet always the rose on her balcony Smiles down in lace at the thin bread And up in grace at the guests for tea. Invisible fingers pour and pass, Unerringly the curate glides On invisible feet, while as through glass The Visible Presence of Rose presides In a hat of shadow, a dress of light, A shawl let fall from the silver sport Of weaving rain; the fragrant sight Is ever and never the same in sort, For Rose reblooms each day that blooms, Each hour that opens on time's tree Finds her unchanged and still she comes A new rose to another tea. What deft tool of delicate mettle Daily remoulds the casual smooth Coral of each imperial petal Into this maxim of fadeless youth? Declared unique, a rose as due Receives a ribbon and a name. The name dies with the rose. The blue Ribbon fades on the sapped stem. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FISH by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE GIANT PUFFBALL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 5. THE STEVEDORES by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 8 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN A BALLAD OF LONDON (TO H.W. MASSINGHAM) by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE CUBA LIBRA [APRIL, 1896] by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE PRETTY MILKMAID by MOTHER GOOSE THE DIRGE [FOR FIDELE], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |