Explore "The Angel of The Desert and Other Poems" by Allan Macpherson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Thou bloomest alone, sweet flower, 'Mid beauties' relics here, Thou bidest a chilling hour And weepest a blighting tear, Yet lovely thou appearest Smiling 'mid snowy wreaths, So a rude faith endeareth The gentle form it scathes.
What art thou like, sweet flower? Braving the wintry blast, Though sunless skies may lower, Thy beauty's not o'ercast With gloom, or pale despairing, Its carmine hues live on, In every change upbearing Just like a patient one.