ROSE coming home Had a bird in her breast; In the garden that's mine Was a robin for guest; He had piped in her path, and my dove Gave him rest. Rose coming home Had her palms at her throat; And I heard from the lace Such a musical note Of the bird that wore scarlet in front Of his coat. Rose in my room Let me peep in the nest Where the robin was nursed; And he pecked when I pressed On his velvety pate! He was warm In her breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EARTH'S IMMORTALITIES: LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING THE YANKEE PRIVATEER by ARTHUR HALE A LETTER TO LADY [MISS] MARGARET-CAVANDISH-HOLLES-HARLEY, WHEN A CHILD by MATTHEW PRIOR VAN ELSEN by FREDERICK GEORGE SCOTT THE FORLORN ONE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM NORTHERN LIGHTS by EINAR BENEDIKTSSON |