My Pretty Rose Tree

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.

by William Blake

Comments (2)

Starving sin....... Once more, it's splendid... Thanks for Sharing..
This is indeed a poem. Thanks for sharing.