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Samuel Taylor Coleridge - The Rose
Work rating: Low

As late each flower that sweetest blows 
I pluck`d, the Garden`s pride! 
Within the petals of a Rose 
A sleeping Love I `spied.

Around his brows a beamy wreath 
Of many a lucent hue;
All purple glow`d his cheek, beneath,
Inebriate with the dew.

I softly seiz`d th` unguarded Power, 
Nor scar`d his balmy rest: 
And plac`d him, cag`d within the flower, 
On spotless Sara`s breast.

But when unweeting of the guile 
Awoke the pris`ner sweet, 
He struggled to escape awhile 
And stamp`d his faery feet.

Ah! soon the soul entrancing sight 
Subdued th` impatient boy! 
He gaz`d! he thrill`d with deep delight!
Then clapp`d his wings for joy.

`And O!` he cried -- `Of magic kind 
What charms this Throne endear! 
Some other Love let Venus find
I`ll fix my empire here.`
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