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— John Milton

Say, Heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 15

Afford a present to the Infant God?

Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,

To welcome him to this his new abode,

…

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TO THE ROSE UPON THE ROOD OF TIME

24 lines
W.B. Yeats·1865–1939·Symbolism
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Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;The Druid, gray, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;And thine own sadness, whereof stars, grown oldIn dancing silver sandalled on the sea,Sing in their high and lonely melody.Come near, that no more blinded by man's fate,I find under the boughs of love and hate,In all poor foolish things that live a day,Eternal beauty wandering on her way._ _Come near, come near, come near--Ah, leave me stillA little space for the rose-breath to fill!Lest I no more hear common things that crave;The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,__The field mouse running by me in the grass,And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;But seek alone to hear the strange things saidBy God to the bright hearts of those long dead,And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know.Come near; I would, before my time to go,Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days._
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