TAKE thou this rose, sweet even as thou art, Thou rose of roses rarest, loveliest, Thou flower of freshest flowers, whose fragrance blest Enwraps me, ravished from myself apart. Take thou this rose, and with it take my heart, My heart that hath no wings, unto thy breast, So constant that its faith stands manifest, Though wounded sore with many a cruel dart. The rose and I are diverse in one thing: Each morning's rose at eve lies perishing, While countless mornings see my love new-born But never night shall see its life decay. . . . Ah! would that love, new-blossomed in the morn, Even as a flower had lasted but a day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOPE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE BURIAL OF BOSTON CORBETT (ONE WARDEN TO ANOTHER) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOLES BORED IN A WORKBAG BY THE SCISSORS by MARIANNE MOORE ONE WAY OF LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING POOR MAILIE'S ELEGY by ROBERT BURNS THE NIGHT [NICHT] IS NEAR [NIGH] GONE by ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE |