John Keats on Roses
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“Its sides I'll plant with dew-sweet eglantine.”
“Rain-scented eglantine Gave temperate sweets to that well-wooing sun.”
“But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.”
“The vermeil rose had blown In frightful scarlet, and its thorns outgrown Like spiked aloe.”
“And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eyes.”
“I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields, A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw Its sweets upon the summer.”