"If this pale rose offend your sight, It in your bosom wear; 'Twill blush to find itself less white, And turn Lancastrian there. But, Celia, should the red be chose, With gay vermilion bright, 'Twould sicken at each blush that glows, And in despair turn white. Let politicians idly prate, Their Babels build in vain; As uncontrollable as Fate, Imperial love shall reign. Each haughty faction shall obey And Whigs and Tories join, Submit to your despotic sway, Confess your right divine. Yet this, my gracious monarch, own, They're tyrants that oppress; 'Tis mercy must support your throne, And 'tis like Heaven to bless." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LOVE SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO THE BELOVED by ALICE MEYNELL SONNET: 130 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE I SIT AND LOOK OUT by WALT WHITMAN THE BUBBLE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM A LAY OF THE EARLY ROSE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |