IN the South is Love's land, Where the roses blow, Where the Summer lingers Fearless of the snow. There no Winter chills it, So its life is long, -- Gentle breezes fan it, Age but makes it strong. "Nay, fresh roses wither Where the sun is hot, -- Not in torrid regions Blooms Forget-me-not. Love's a tender blossom Which the Winter chills, But the eager Summer Kisses it, and kills." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 7. OF HOSPITALITY by WILLIAM BASSE THE KILN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A PENITENTIAL SOLILOQUY by JOHN BYROM THE LION'S BRIDE by ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO JEFF HART by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. OLNEY HYMNS: 7. VANITY OF THE WORLD by WILLIAM COWPER |