Song Poem by Isaac Rosenberg

Song



A silver rose to show
Is your sweet face;
And like the heavens' white brow,
Sometime God's battle-place,
Your blood is quiet now.

Your body is a star
Unto my thought ;
But stars are not too far,
And can be caught-
Small pools their prisons are.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Isaac Rosenberg

Isaac Rosenberg

Bristol / England
Close
Error Success