To A Rose Poem by Frank Dempster Sherman
To A Rose
GO, Rose, and in her golden hair
You shall forget the garden soon;
The sunshine is a captive there
And crowns her with a constant noon.
And when your spicy odor goes,
And fades the beauty of your bloom,
Think what a lovely hand, O Rose,
Shall place your body in the tomb!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: hair,rose,sunshine
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8/28/2026 10:12:58 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
