Ah! life, dear life, thy summer days have flown <br />Swiftly yet all too late, for they did wither. <br />Joy should be joy for one short hour alone, <br />Or it will lose its loveliness for ever. <br /> <br />I did not spare to use the cruel knife, <br />But cut the rose as soon as it was day, <br />And gave it to my love. Its little life <br />Passed, like a sigh, from Nature's breast away. <br /> <br />Full--hearted flower, thou didst not shrink nor flee <br />When the steel touched thee. No sad memories <br />Made what thou knew not terrible to thee, <br />And death came on thee like a sad surprise. <br /> <br />Too happy flower! I would my love had died <br />At unawares, by such a death as thine. <br />I should have slain my love in its full pride, <br />So had it lived and been for ever mine, <br /> <br />A treasure for all joy to ponder on, <br />Laid up for aye in old Time's palaces, <br />A ``thing of beauty'' which my soul had won, <br />And death had made undying with a kiss.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-death-of-the-rose/
