My bud was backward to unclose, A pretty baby-queen, Furled petal-tips of creamy rose Caught in a clasp of green. Somehow, I never thought to doubt That when her heart should show She would be coloured in as out, Like the flush of dawn on snow: But yesterday aghast I found. Where last I'd left the bud, Twelve flamy pearls ringed around A heart more red than blood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VIRGIN'S SLUMBER SONG by JOSEPH FRANCIS CARLIN MACDONNELL CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR by ROSSITER WORTHINGTON RAYMOND THE OLD BURYING-GROUND by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 15. TO THE EVENING STAR by MARK AKENSIDE FALL PLOWING by EVA K. ANGLESBURG THE SMUGGLER'S LEAP; A LEGEND OF THANET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |