I AM the flower within her garden-close She cast aside; Ah! had she plucked me, verily, God knows I had not died. I would have fought a battle with strong Death, And bloomed anew, Finding sweet resurrection in her breath The long day through; And had she laid me on her trembling heart, New fire had sprung Into my crimson petals' every part, And made me young. Yea, I for her had lived again; but O, She passed me by, And now, neglected, in the night I go Softly -- to die! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE, PARAPHRASED: THE CUP by ANACREON THE HURRICANE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE CUPBOARD by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE CONVERGENCE OF THE TWAIN; LINES ON LOSS OF THE TITANIC by THOMAS HARDY ANTIMENIDAS by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE THE PROFESSION OF FLATTERY by ANTIPHANES |