ROSES the lover gives to his love; Roses we lay on the breast of death That nevermore fondest whisper can move, -- Which is the sweeter, answer and prove, Passionate love, or sleep without breath? For love you burn with a crimson fire, For death you are pale as the winter's snow: Warm for the one, with the heart's desire, Cold for the other, since hopes expire, -- Which is the sweeter? When shall we know? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SECRET OF THE SEA by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD by THEODORE O'HARA THE DIRGE [FOR FIDELE], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 5 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION; A POEM. ENLARGED VERSION: BOOK 1 by MARK AKENSIDE LOST HAPPINESS by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |