LOVE'S a flower, 'tis born and broken, Plucked apace, and hugged apart; Evening comes, it clings -- poor token -- Dead and dry, on lover's heart. Love's the rhyme of a summer minute Woven close like hum of flies; Sob of wind, and meaning in it Dies away, as summer dies. Love's a shimmery morning bubble Puffed all gay from pipe of noon; Spun aloft on breath of trouble -- Bursts in air -- is gone -- too soon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLASS HOUSES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE RUSH OF THE OREGON by ARTHUR GUITERMAN THIS SUMMER AND LAST by THOMAS HARDY GRACE FOR CHILDREN by ROBERT HERRICK THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON LOW; A MIDSUMMER LEGEND by MARY HOWITT ABRAHAM LINCOLN WALKS AT MIDNIGHT by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY |