Flower Pieces and other poems By William Allingham: With two designs by Dante Gabriel Rossetti |
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ROSES. |
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 | Flower Pieces and other poems |  |
18
ROSES.
All Roses be the crown for Shakespeare's head,
The half-green buddings and the bossy blooms,
Virginal white and tender maiden-blush,
Nor that rejected where a canker's hid
To move us more than beauty, rival flow'rs
Embracing here of York and Lancaster,
Shy wildings from the forest, proud ones woo'd
By nightingales in gardens of the South,
Or worn by Cleopatra,—rose on rose,
Roses from every region of the world!
The half-green buddings and the bossy blooms,
Virginal white and tender maiden-blush,
Nor that rejected where a canker's hid
To move us more than beauty, rival flow'rs
Embracing here of York and Lancaster,
Shy wildings from the forest, proud ones woo'd
By nightingales in gardens of the South,
Or worn by Cleopatra,—rose on rose,
Roses from every region of the world!
Vicegerent to Queen Flora, free thou giv'st
Thy royalty the air, thy favours fling
To cottage threshold or a palace-hall,
Or delicately wreathe the wayside hedge;
All zones are native to thee; never sun
Can scorch the whiteness of thy pearly brow,
Or wan the flushing of thy cherub cheek;
Unsickly is thy spirit, and breathes out
Exhilaration, buoyancy and triumph,
Wedded to richness without paragon;
That even thy cast-off leaves are precious things,
And thy nice essence of a dearer rate
Than the oft-furnaced gold,—O rarest thou
And commonest, most cheap, most prizable,
Of all the Flowers in garden or in field,
Of all that earth from east to west can yield!
Thy royalty the air, thy favours fling
To cottage threshold or a palace-hall,
Or delicately wreathe the wayside hedge;
All zones are native to thee; never sun
Can scorch the whiteness of thy pearly brow,
Or wan the flushing of thy cherub cheek;
Unsickly is thy spirit, and breathes out
Exhilaration, buoyancy and triumph,
Wedded to richness without paragon;
That even thy cast-off leaves are precious things,
And thy nice essence of a dearer rate
Than the oft-furnaced gold,—O rarest thou
And commonest, most cheap, most prizable,
Of all the Flowers in garden or in field,
Of all that earth from east to west can yield!
| Flower Pieces and other poems | |