Explore "The Rose" by Alice Meynell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
SWEET, serene, sky-like flower,
Haste to adorn the bower;
From thy long cloudy bed,
Shoot forth thy damask head.
New-startled blush of Flora,
The grief of pale Aurora
(Who will contest no more),
Haste, haste to strew her floor!
Vermilion ball that's given / From lip to lip in Heaven; / Love's couch's coverled, / Haste, haste to make her bed.
Dear offspring of pleased Venus / And jolly, plump Silenus, / Haste, haste to deck the hair / Of the only sweetly fair!
See! rosy is her bower, / Her floor is all this flower / Her bed a rosy nest / By a bed of roses pressed.
But early as she dresses, / Why fly you her bright tresses? / Ah! I have found, I fear,- / Because her cheeks are near.