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.
Back to William Blake
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.
Comments1Really resonated with the line "But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight." Speaks volumes about unrequited love and unappreciated devotion.