Monday, 18 June 2018

Poetry Revisited: Rose of Love by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

Rose of Love

(from Between the Lights: 1904)

               Many a rose
               In the hot-house grows,
Holding its charm for the wealthiest buyer;
               Out in the air,
               In the garden there,
Blossoms the rose of my only desire.

               Languid are these,
               Shut from the breeze,
Blowing all sweet from the meadows of clover;
               Out where she grows,
               My little rose
Lifts up a face with the dew sprinkled over.

               Roses are dear,
               In the hot-house here;
I would not buy were their beauty perfection.
               Roses as rare,
               Sweet and as fair.
Blossom and bloom, asking only affection.

               Oh, for one day
               To cast all away,
Just to be free for a few golden hours;
               To lose all regret,
               To enjoy, to forget,
Near to my rose in a garden of flowers.

Isabel Ecclestone Mackay (1875-1928)
Canadian writer

1 comment:

  1. Ah, to lose all regret, to enjoy, to forget.

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