A Blown Rose.
Lay but a finger on That pallid petal sweet, It trembles gray and wan Beneath the passing feet. But soft! blown rose, we know A merriment of bloom, A life of sturdy glow, - But no such dear perfume. As some good bard, whose page Of life with beauty's fraught, Grays on to ripe old age Sweet-mellowed through with thought. So when his hoary head Is wept into the tomb, The mind, which is not dead, Sheds round it rare perfume.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Lay but a finger on..."
This evocative piece by Madison Julius Cawein, titled "A Blown Rose.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...