Roses Can Wound

Roses can wound,
But not from having thorns they do most harm;
Often the night gives, starry-sheen or moon'd,
        Deep in the soul alarm.
And it hath been deep within my heart like fear,
        Girl, when you are near.

        The mist of sense,
Wherein the soul goes shielded, can divide,
And she must cringe and be ashamed, and wince,
        Not in appearance hide
Of rose or girl from the blazing mastery
        Of bared Eternity.

Lascelles Abercrombie

Lascelles Abercrombie, born on January 9, 1881, was an influential English poet and literary critic, part of the group known as the Dymock poets. Renowned for his dramatic verse and contribution to early 20th-century literature, he published several collections, including 'Interludes and Poems.' Abercrombie's work often explored themes of individual struggle and philosophical inquiry. He passed away on October 27, 1938, leaving behind a legacy that continues to be studied in English literature.

Lascelles Abercrombie

Epilogue to Emblems of Love

Lascelles Abercrombie, Simple Poetry

Marriage Song

Lascelles Abercrombie, Simple Poetry

Hymn To Love

Lascelles Abercrombie, Simple Poetry

English

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Rose.

When the evening broods quiescent
Over mountain, vale and lea,
And the moon uplifts her crescent
Far above the peaceful sea,
Little Rose, the fisher's daughter,
Passes in her cedar skiff
O'er the dreamy waste of water,
To the signal on the cliff.

Have a care, my merry maiden!
Young Adonis though he be,
Many hearts are secret-laden
That have trusted such as he.
Has he worth, and is he truthful?
Thoughtless maiden rarely knows;
But, "He's handsome, brave and youthful,"
Says the heart of little Rose.

Hark! the horn - its shrill vibrations
Tremble through the maiden's breast,
As the sweet reverberations
Dwindle to their whispered rest;
Sweeter far the honied sentence
Sealing up her mind's repose;
Love as yet needs no repen...

Charles Sangster

The Year Of The Rose

From the depths of the green garden-closes
Where the summer in darkness dozes
Till autumn pluck from his hand
An hour-glass that holds not a sand;
From the maze that a flower-belt encloses
To the stones and sea-grass on the strand
How red was the reign of the roses
Over the rose-crowned land!

The year of the rose is brief;
From the first blade blown to the sheaf,
From the thin green leaf to the gold,
It has time to be sweet and grow old,
To triumph and leave not a leaf
For witness in winters sight
How lovers once in the light
Would mix their breath with its breath,
And its spirit was quenched not of night,
As love is subdued not of death.

In the red-rose land not a mile
Of the meadows from stile to stile,
Of the valleys from st...

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Every Rose Hath Its Thorn.

        There was a maiden all forlorn,
        She loved a youth, his name was Thorn,
        But he was shy for to disclose
        How he loved dear the sweet May Rose.

        Lustre sweet it would give to Thorn,
        If this fair flower would it adorn,
        Said he all other names above
        Your charming name alone I love.

        Said she of beauty 'tis soon shorn,
        Unless that it is joined to Thorn,
        It very soon doth droop and die,
        And she heaved a gentle sigh.

        Said he we'll wed to-morrow morn,
        No more from me you shall be torn,
        For you will banish all my woes,
        And near my heart I'll wear the rose.

        Now little rose buds they are born,
        All clingin...

James McIntyre

Marriage Song

I

Come up, dear chosen morning, come,
Blessing the air with light,
And bid the sky repent of being dark:
Let all the spaces round the world be white,
And give the earth her green again.
Into new hours of beautiful delight,
Out of the shadow where she has lain,
Bring the earth awake for glee,
Shining with dews as fresh and clear
As my beloved's voice upon the air.
For now, O morning chosen of all days, on thee
A wondrous duty lies:
There was an evening that did loveliness foretell;
Thence upon thee, O chosen morn, it fell
To fashion into perfect destiny
The radiant prophecy.
For in an evening of young moon, that went
Filling the moist air with a rosy fire,
I and my beloved knew our love;
And knew that thou, O morning, wouldst arise

Lascelles Abercrombie

Women And Roses

I.
I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?

II.
Round and round, like a dance of snow
In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go
Floating the women faded for ages,
Sculptured in stone, on the poets pages.
Then follow women fresh and gay,
Living and loving and loved to-day.
Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens,
Beauties yet unborn. And all, to one cadence,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.

III.
Dear rose, thy term is reached,
Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached:
Bees pass it unimpeached.

IV.
Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb,
You, great shapes of the antique time!
How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you,
Break my heart at your feet to please you?

Robert Browning

Come Into The Garde, Maud

Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, Night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the roses blown.

For a breeze of morning moves,
And the planet of Love is on high,
Beginning to faint in the light that she loves
On a bed of daffodil sky,
To faint in the light of the sun she loves,
To faint in his light, and to die.

All night have the roses heard
The flute, violin, bassoon;
All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd
To the dancers dancing in tune:
Till a silence fell with the waking bird,
And a hush with the setting moon.

I said to the lily, "There is but one
With whom she has heart to be gay.
When will the dancers leave her...

Alfred Lord Tennyson