Poetry Feast

An online poetry arcive with biographies and critical analysis.

Currently serving 7,417 poems by 89 authors.

A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said, “I’ve a pretty rose-tree”,
And I passed the sweet flower o’er.

Then I went to my pretty rose-tree,
To tend her by day and by night;
But my rose turned away with jealousy,
And her thorns were my only delight.

William Blake

(2 votes, average: 4.5 out of 5)

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