ROSE that wert red, Drop thy flower on my head, Rose that wert red. Leaves that were sweet, Spill thy dews on my feet, Leaves that were sweet. Bird whose tired song Broke and died the day long, Sing thy old wrong. Heart whose clear flame Failed before the night came, Hide thy sharp shame. Rose that wert red, Drop thy flower on my head, Now that I am dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIPPERARY: 3. AS THE INTERLINEARS MIGHT TAKE IT FROM XENOPHON by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PSALM 89 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE WHAT MAKES A NATION GREAT? by ALEXANDER BLACKBURN SHADOWS ON THE WALL by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK LINES SUGGESTED BY A LATE OCCURRENCE by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |