She. THE dandelions in the grass Are blown to fairies' clocks; On this green bank I pluckt (Alas) The last of lady-smocks. He. Let them die, What care I? Roses come when field flowers pass. She. But these sun-sated sultry hours Will make your roses fall: Their large wide-open crimson flowers Must die like daisies small. He. Sweet as yet! I'll forget (When they die) they lived at all! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HUDSON by GEORGE SIDNEY HELLMAN HEAVEN-HAVEN; A NUN TAKES THE VEIL by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE LONELY CHILD by JAMES OPPENHEIM LOVE AND TIME by WALTER RALEIGH MARCH MADNESS ON EDGEWATER HILL by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL PSALM 39, VERSE 5 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |