Poem by Alice Dunbar-Nelson

Amid the Roses

There is tropical warmth and languorous life
Where the roses lie
In a tempting drift
Of pink and red and golden light
Untouched as yet by the pruning knife.
And the still, warm life of the roses fair
That whisper "Come,"
With promises
Of sweet caresses, close and pure
Has a thorny whiff in the perfumed air.
There are thorns and love in the roses' bed,
And Satan too
Must linger there;
So Satan's wiles and the conscience stings,
Must now abide—the roses are dead.

1. To Madame Curie
2. Legend of the Newspaper
3. Paul to Virginia
4. To the Negro Farmers of the United States
5. You! Inez!

John Tabb Amid the Roses ("There was laughter 'mid the Roses")

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