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The roses that in yonder hedge appear Outdo our garden-buds which bloom within; But since the hand may pluck them every day, Unmarked they bud, bloom, drop, and drift away. - Jean Ingelow, The Four Bridges (st. 61) Mild May's eldest child, the coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, the murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. - John Keats (1) The vermeil rose had blown In frightful scarlet, and its thorns outgrown Like spiked aloe. - John Keats (1), Endymion (bk. I, l. 694) But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed. - John Keats (1), On Fame Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? - Omar Khayyam ("The Tent-Maker"), The Rubaiyat, (FitzGerald's translation) Woo on, with odour wooing me, Faint rose with fading core; For God's rose-thought, that blooms in thee, Will bloom forevermore. - George MacDonald, Songs of the Summer Night (pt. III) But she bloomed on earth, where the most beautiful things have the saddest destiny; And rose, she lived as live the roses, for the space of a morning. [Fr., Mais elle etait du mond, ou les plus belles choses Ont le pire destin; Et Rose, elle a vecu ce que vivent les roses, L'espece d'un matin.] - Francois de Malherbe, in a letter of condolence to M. du Perrier on the loss of his daughter And I will make the beds of roses. - Christopher Marlowe And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies. - Christopher Marlowe, The Passionate Shepherd to his Love (st. 3), said to be written by Shakespeare and Marlowe Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose. - John Milton, Paradise Lost (bk. IV, l. 256) Rose of the desert! thou art to me An emblem of stainless purity,-- Of those who, keeping their garments white, Walk on through life with steps aright. - David Macbeth Moir (known as Delta), The White Rose Two roses on one slender spray In sweet communion grew, Together hailed the morning ray And drank the evening dew. - James Montgomery, The Roses While rose-buds scarcely show'd their hue, But coyly linger'd on the thorn. - James Montgomery, The Roses Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distill'd-- You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. - Thomas Moore, Farewell! but Whenever you Welcome the Hour There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long, In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. - Thomas Moore, Lalla Rookh--The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. - Thomas Moore, Last Rose of Summer 'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone. - Thomas Moore, Last Rose of Summer What would the rose with all her pride be worth, Were there no sun to call her brightness forth? - Thomas Moore, Love Alone Oh! there is naught in nature bright Whose roses do not shed their light; When morning paints the Orient skies, Her fingers burn with roseate dyes. - Thomas Moore, Odes of Anacreon--Ode LV The rose distils a healing balm The beating pulse of pain to calm. - Thomas Moore, Odes of Anacreon--Ode LV Rose! thou art the sweetest flower, That ever drank the amber shower; Rose! thou art the fondest child Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild. - Thomas Moore, Odes of Anacreon--Ode XLIV Why do we shed the rose's bloom Upon the cold, insensate tomb? Can flowery breeze, or odor's breath, Affect the slumbering chill of death? - Thomas Moore, Odes of Anacreon--Ode XXXII Rose of the Desert! Thus should woman be Shining uncourted, lone and safe, like thee. - Thomas Moore, Rose of the Desert Rose of the Garden! such is woman's lot-- Worshipp'd while blooming--when she fades, forgot. - Thomas Moore, Rose of the Desert Sometimes, when on the Alpine rose The golden sunset leaves its ray, So like a gem the flow'ret glows, We thither bend our headlong way; And though we find no treasure there, We bless the rose that shines so fair. - Thomas Moore, The Crystal-Hunters Displaying page 3 of 5 for this topic: << Prev Next >> 1 2 [3] 4 5
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