Rose Poems

Rose Poems

Lily of the Nile, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

Queenly lily, fair and fragrant,
I have watc...

On the Evening Train, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

Night after night, week after week, month aft...

The Reign of the Roses, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

Room for the roses, make room for the roses,
...

The Roses, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

I would sing of the roses
Their fragrance, th...

Summer Clouds, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

I watched the clouds at evening
When the Summe...

To the Birds, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

O lark, whose joyous warbling comes
Across th...

The Voice of the Clock, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

"Tick, tick, tick, " for many a long, long y...

Atlantis, by Mary C. Gillington

I When the long twilight waned upon the rim
O...

A Recipe for Summer, by Mary Dow Brine

What is summer made of?
Of opening buds and fl...

The Rejected Rose, by Mary Dow Brine

Only a rosebud, sweet and fair,
Down by the ...

Spring-Time, by Mary Dow Brine

It means a glad up-springing of all things swee...

Why the Daisies are White, by Mary Dow Brine

Once on a time a quarrel rose,
'Tis said, be...

1857-1882, by Mary T. Lathrap

We were wont to dread November
With its garmen...

Breaking of the Ice, by Mary T. Lathrap

Under the winter moon they lay--
Frozen river,...

The Changed Life, by Mary T. Lathrap

'T is a land of old romance and story, --
The ...

Evening, by Mary T. Lathrap

Marshall, May 31, 1859 The meek stars are br...

An Indian Legend, by Mary T. Lathrap

Far, far away, where the sun goes down,
And...

A Woman's Answer to a Man's Question, by Mary T. Lathrap

Do you know you have asked for the costliest th...

At Dawn, by Maurice Browne

No wild-foot Dryad haunts this leafless glade
...

A Thanksgiving Prayer, by May Riley Smith

For toil that is a medicine for woe,
For stre...

The Mountain in the West, by M.H. Cobb

Last eve the sunset winds upheaved
A mountain ...

Eunica; or, The Herdsman, by Moschus

When lately I offer'd Eunica to kiss,
She fle...

Europa, by Moschus

Cypris, when all but shone the dawn's glad bea...

Freedom, by Mrs. O. M. Livingston

The winds of heaven are sweeping free,
They c...

The Slave's Soliloquy, by Mrs. O. M. Livingston

I am a slave! Oh why was I born!
Why was I mad...