More love, dead rose! than to such roses bold

It lay upon thee where the crimson was,---

Lie still upon this heart---which breaks below thee!

As Julia wears at dances, smiling cold!---

If dropping now,---would dar九-九-藏-書ken where it met thee.

If breathing now,---unsweetened would forego thee.

Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away

The sun that used to smite thee,

The fly that lit upon thee,

O Rose! who dares to name thee?

And, white first,ｒｅaｄ.９９ｃsｗ•com grow incarnadined, because

But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat,---

If shining now,---with not a hue would light thee.

The heart doth recognise thee,

If lighting now,---would coldlｒｅａd.９9ｃsｗ•ｃｏｍy overrun thee.

No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet;

To stretch the tendrils of its tiny feet,

And build thy perfumed ambers up his hive,

Kept seven years in a drawer---thy titles shame thee.

And swoon in thee for joy, till scarce alivehｔｔps://ｒead.9９ｃsｗ.ｃｏm,---

Yes, and the heart doth owe thee

Alone, alone! The heart doth smell thee sweet,

An odour up the lane to last all day,---

If passing now,---would blindly overlook thee.

The dew that used to wet thee,

The bee that once did suck thee,

Though seeing九_九_藏_書 now those changes that disguise thee.

The breeze that used to blow thee

Along thy leafs pure edges, after heat,---

Doth view thee fair, doth judge thee most complete,---

And mix his glory in thy gorgeous urn,

Till beam appeared to bloom, and flower to burn,---