Rose of the garden's roses, what pale wind Has scattered those flushed petals in an hour, And the close leaves of all the alleys thinned, What re-awakening wind, O sad enchantress banished to a flower? Parsifal has out-blushed the roses: dead Is all the garden of the world's delight, And every rose of joy has drooped its head, And for sweet shame is dead; Sweet joy being shameful in the pure fool's sight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MAPLE AND SUMACH by CECIL DAY LEWIS TELLING THE BEES (A COLONIAL CUSTOM) by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE A SOLDIER'S GRAVE by JOHN ALBEE CURE FOR AFFLICTIONS by ARCHILOCHUS AN EPITAPH, ON A FOOLISH BOASTER by PHILIP AYRES GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 9 by RICHARD BARNFIELD WHOM EARTH HAS TAUGHT: REVELATION by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS |