Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
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And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
In an unprepared season?

Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
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Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close;
Her tears, to the wind-flower,--his blood, to the rose.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.

Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.

The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise,
I barter for curl upon that mart.

The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise,
I barter for curl upon that mart.