WHO sent you to me, roses rare? And why, pray, blush? Say, is she not a maiden fair? I will not hush. You thought to keep her name from me, -- Nay, do not start; A traitor in the camp, you see. Who told? -- My heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESSAY ON STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |