white rose quotes

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White rose
you are a stricken weary thing,
shaming the spring . . .
The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
Her wine was dew o' the wild white rose
Her book a churchyard tomb.
There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison air;
'Tis said as Cupid danced among,
The God he down the nectar flung,
See spring is gone,
ah wail, ah wail in vain,
for spring is dead.
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here.
I am haunted by numberless islands, many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;<
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