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Christina Georgina Rossetti - An October Garden
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In my Autumn garden I was fain 
To mourn among my scattered roses; 
Alas for that last rosebud which uncloses 
To Autumn`s languid sun and rain 
When all the world is on the wane! 
Which has not felt the sweet constraint of June, 
Nor heard the nightingale in tune. 


Broad-faced asters by my garden walk, 
You are but coarse compared with roses: 
More choice, more dear that rosebud which uncloses 
Faint-scented, pinched, upon its stalk, 
That least and last which cold winds balk; 
A rose it is though least and last of all, 
A rose to me though at the fall.
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