MY ROSES
They bloomed in such rich perfectness,
My artist's brush or poet's pen
Had hoped to only half confess
Their novelty, waxen richness, when
I dreamed a dream of sweet completeness,
Of one who lived the roses' sweetness.
My artist's brush or poet's pen
Had hoped to only half confess
Their novelty, waxen richness, when
I dreamed a dream of sweet completeness,
Of one who lived the roses' sweetness.