Isabella Valancy Crawford (Изабелла Валанси Кроуфорд)
The Rose
The Rose was given to man for this: He, sudden seeing it in later years, Should swift remember Love's first lingering kiss And Grief's last lingering tears; Or, being blind, should feel its yearning soul Knit all its piercing perfume round his own, Till he should see on memory's ample scroll All roses he had known; Or, being hard, perchance his finger-tips Careless might touch the satin of its cup, And he should feel a dead babe's budding lips To his lips lifted up; Or, being deaf and smitten with its star, Should, on a sudden, almost hear a lark Rush singing upthe nightingale afar Sing through the dew-bright dark; Or, sorrow-lost in paths that round and round Circle old graves, its keen and vital breath Should call to him within the yew's bleak bound Of Life, and not of Death.
Isabella Valancy Crawford’s other poems:
- “The Earth Waxeth Old”
- The Helot
- Malcolm’s Katie: A Love Story – Part 4
- A Hungry Day
- Canada to England
Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):