Explore "Every Rose Hath its Thorn" by James McIntyre on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was a maiden all forlorn, / She loved a youth, his name was Thorn, / But he was shy for to disclose / How he loved dear the sweet May Rose.
Lustre sweet it would give to Thorn, / If this fair flower would it adorn, / Said he all other names above / Your charming name alone I love.
Said she of beauty 'tis soon shorn, / Unless that it is joined to Thorn, / It very soon doth droop and die, / And she heaved a gentle sigh.
Said he we'll wed to-morrow morn, / No more from me you shall be torn, / For you will banish all my woes, / And near my heart I'll wear the rose.
Now little rose buds they are born, / All clinging to the parent Thorn, / In grace and beauty each one grows, / Full worthy of the sweet May Rose.
Some flowers they only shed their bloom / In the sweet month of leafy June, / But May doth bloom each month in year / A fragrant Rose forever dear.