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The Secret Rose

Rating: 4.0
FAR-OFF, most secret, and inviolate Rose,
Enfold me in my hour of hours; where those
Who sought thee in the Holy Sepulchre,
Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir
And tumult of defeated dreams; and deep
Among pale eyelids, heavy with the sleep
Men have named beauty. Thy great leaves enfold
The ancient beards, the helms of ruby and gold
Of the crowned Magi; and the king whose eyes
Saw the pierced Hands and Rood of elder rise
In Druid vapour and make the torches dim;
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COMMENTS
Susan Williams 20 April 2016
These lines are so beautifully written: - - - - - - - - - - - - - -] I, too, await The hour of thy great wind of love and hate. When shall the stars be blown about the sky, Like the sparks blown out of a smithy, and die? Surely thine hour has come, thy great wind blows, Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
9 0 Reply
* Sunprincess * 14 January 2016
......wondefully penned and most excellent metaphor ?
0 1 Reply
Victoria Christina Royaldo 16 September 2015
Intelligent and very gifted poet.
1 0 Reply

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