Bring me the roses white and red, <br />And take the laurel leaves away; <br />Yea, wreathe the roses round my head <br />That wearies 'neath the crown of bay. <br />'We searched the wintry forests thro' <br />And found no roses anywhere— <br />But we have brought a little rue <br />To twine a circlet for your hair.' <br />I would not pluck the rose in May, <br />I wove a laurel crown instead; <br />And when the crown is cast away, <br />They bring me rue — the rose is dead.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/roses-and-rue-2/
