Rose Poems

Rose Poems

New Year, 1918, by Arthur Guiterman

As Father Time came speeding where I stood,
I...

Signs of Rain, by Arthur Guiterman

The circling swallows twittered all the morn;
...

Halloween, by Arthur Peterson

Out I went into the meadow,
Where the moon w...

Alle Zattere, by Arthur Symons

Only to live, only to be
In Venice, is enoug...

At Glan-Y-Wern, by Arthur Symons

White-robed against the threefold white
Of shu...

At Seventeen, by Arthur Symons

You were a child, and liked me, yesterday.
T...

At the Stage-Door, by Arthur Symons

Kicking my heels in the street,
Here at the e...

Before Meeting, by Arthur Symons

I know not how our eyes first met,
I only kno...

Bianca, by Arthur Symons

Her cheeks are hot, her cheeks are white;
Th...

De Profundis Clamavi, by Arthur Symons

I did not know; child, child, I did not know,...

Kisses, by Arthur Symons

Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses?...

La Mélinite: Moulin Rouge, by Arthur Symons

Olivier Metra's Waltz of Roses
Sheds in a rhyt...

Margery of the Fens, by Arthur Symons

I Yes, I'm dying by inches; the Devil has got...

Mauve, Black, and Rose, by Arthur Symons

Mauve, black, and rose,
The veils of the je...

Paris, by Arthur Symons

My Paris is a land where twilight days
Merge i...

The Primrose Dance: Tivoli, by Arthur Symons

TO MINNIE CUNNINGHAM Skirts like the amber pet...

Rosa Flammea, by Arthur Symons

Beautiful demon, O veil those eyes of fire,
...

Rosa Mundi, by Arthur Symons

An angel of pale desire
Whispered me in the ea...

Rubies, by Arthur Symons

There are nine rubies in this Indian ring,
An...

Stella Maligna, by Arthur Symons

My little slave!
Wouldst thou escape me? Only ...

To a Gitana Dancing, by Arthur Symons

Because you are fair as souls of the lost are f...

To Muriel: At the Opera, by Arthur Symons

Roses and rose-buds, red and white,
Nestled ...

California Pioneers of Early Days Crossing the Plains, by August Wilhelm Wern

Many a youth left home and friend
To pioneer a...

No Winter in Los Angeles, by August Wilhelm Wern

There is no winter here!
With joy we hail Octo...

Sun God, by August Wilhelm Wern

Of many gods thus gone before,
That man did w...