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O Rose thou art sick.
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.
The rose is a rose,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
Go, lovely Rose—
The Rainbow comes and goes,
I said to the rose, “The brief night goes
Footfalls echo in the memory
And comic color of the rose, in which
The rose is obsolete
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!
Rose, harsh rose,
Rose-cheek'd Laura, come,
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
If then all that worldlings prize
Rose, oh pure contradiction, joy
What was said to the rose that made it open
And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
Rose of Stamboul O coral Queen—
Nobody knows this little Rose—
She has folded
Tell me, is the rose naked
Why is it no one ever sent me yet
The Rose said, “In the shade
The first rose on my rose-tree
O Rose! who dares to name thee?
So, in the shape of that white rose the holy
The boy said 'I'm going to pick you,
What is pink? a rose is pink
And early though the laurel grows
Fate permits me
It was a little budding rose,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
