Thrice happie Roses, so much grac't, to have Within the Bosome of my Love your grave. Die when ye will, your sepulchre is knowne, Your Grave her Bosome is, the Lawne the Stone | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO THE CUCKOO by MICHAEL BRUCE THE FOREST MAID by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE CALM [CALME] by JOHN DONNE TWO LIVES: CONCLUSION. INDIAN SUMMER by WILLIAM ELLERY LEONARD SONNET: 21. TO CYRIACK SKINNER by JOHN MILTON THE WILD SWANS AT COOLE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 6. SPRING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |