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?

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with read more

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with his hand
On all my birthdays, for me. save the last;
And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough,
For roses to stay after.

Rose were sette of swete savour,
With many roses that thei bere.

Rose were sette of swete savour,
With many roses that thei bere.

This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.

This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.

Till the rose's lips grow pale
With her sighs.

Till the rose's lips grow pale
With her sighs.

The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.

The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.

Loveliest of lovely things are they
On earth that soonest pass away.
The rose that lives its read more

Loveliest of lovely things are they
On earth that soonest pass away.
The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

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.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.

A white rosebud for a guerdon.