The Little Rose Is Dust, My Dear Poem by Grace Hazard Conkling

The Little Rose Is Dust, My Dear

Rating: 2.9


The little rose is dust, my dear;
The elfin wind is gone
That sang a song of silver words
And cooled our hearts with dawn.

And what is left to hope, my dear,
Or what is left to say?
The rose, the little wind and you
Have gone so far away.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Grace Hazard Conkling

Grace Hazard Conkling

New York City, New York
Close
Error Success