Showing posts with label Rose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rose. Show all posts

The Heart's Anchor








"The Heart's Anchor"


Think of me as your friend , I pray,

And call me by a loving name;

I will not care what others say,

If only you will remain the same.

I will not care how dark the night,

I will not care how wild the storm,

Your love will fill my heart with light

And shield me close and keep me warm.



William Winter (1863-1917)




A Birthday







"A BIRTHDAY"


MY heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a daïs of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.


 Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)





A White Rose






























A White Rose


THE red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

John Boyle O'Reilly (1844-1890)



Rose





"My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose" is a 1794 song in Scots by Robert Burns based on traditional sources.   The song is also referred to by the title My Love is Like A Red, Red Rose or Red, Red Rose and is often published as a poem.


O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.