O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, read more

O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,--
Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet read more

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet bonnie mou'!

You smell a rose through a fence:
If two should smell it, what matter?

You smell a rose through a fence:
If two should smell it, what matter?

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
read more

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

When love came first to earth, the Spring
Spread rose-beds to receive him.

When love came first to earth, the Spring
Spread rose-beds to receive him.

I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose.
[Fr., Je ne suis pas la rose, read more

I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose.
[Fr., Je ne suis pas la rose, mais j'ai vecu pres d'elle.]

There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the
thorns.

There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the
thorns.

He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses.

He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses.