
A speaker revisits a garden, recalling a recent walk with a woman who rescued a snail, pointed out a moth, and named a flower in Spanish. Cherishing her voice and touch, the speaker asks the flower's bud to stay closed and preserve her traces, finding the roses less beautiful without her.
By Robert Browning · Genre: Lyric Poetry, Love Poetry · 573 words
Here's the garden she walked across, / Arm in my arm, such a short while since: / Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss / Hinders the hinges and makes them wince! / She must have reached this shrub ere she turned, / As back with that murmur the wicket swung; / For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned, / To feed and forget it the leaves among.
Down this side of the gravel-walk / She went while her robe's edge brushed the box: / And here she paused in her gracious talk / To point me a moth on the milk-white phlox. / Roses, ranged in valiant row, / I will never think that she passed you by! / She loves you, noble roses, I know; / But yonder, see, where the rock-plants lie!
The Flower's Name is listed on Textopian as a poem by Robert Browning, dated Date unknown.
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gardens · flowers · Spanish language · affection · remembrance