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Poem by Edith Nesbit


The December Rose


   HERES a rose that blows for Chloe,
      Fair as ever a rose in June was,
   Now the gardens silent, snowy,
      Where the burning summer noon was.

   In your gardens summer glory
      One poor corner, shelved and shady,
   Told no rosy, radiant story,
      Grew no rose to grace its lady.

   What shuts sun out shuts out snow too;
      From his nook your secret lover
   Shows what slighted roses grow to
      When the rose you chose is over.



Edith Nesbit


Edith Nesbit's other poems:
  1. Saturday Song
  2. Incompatibilities
  3. The Garden Refused
  4. The Whirligig of Time
  5. The Fire


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