Go, Rose, and in her golden hair You shall forget the garden soon; The sunshine is a captive there And crowns her with a constant noon. And when your spicy odor goes, And fades the beauty of your bloom, Think what a lovely hand, O Rose, Shall place your body in the tomb! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLLEGE DRINKING SONG by GEORGE SANTAYANA I LOVE ALL BEAUTEOUS THINGS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE CONTRETEMPS by THOMAS HARDY THE TALENTED MAN by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED SONNET: THE RARITY OF GENIUS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |