The Sugar-Maple embers in bed Here fended in Garden of Fire, Like the Roses yield musk, Like the Roses are Red, Like the Roses expire Lamented when low; But, excelling the flower, Are odorous in ashes As e'en in their glow. Ah, Love, when life closes, Dying the death of the just, May we vie with Hearth-Roses, Smelling sweet in our dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL POST-MORTEM by EMILY DICKINSON THE ADOPTED CHILD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS INDIFFERENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY RIDDLE: A BLACKSMITH by MOTHER GOOSE AN OLD BATTLE-FIELD by FRANK LEBBY STANTON THE CHARGE OF THE HEAVY BRIGADE AT BALACLAVA: THE CHARGE by ALFRED TENNYSON |