I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

Edward Fitzgerald

Blows Buried Caesar Every Garden Head Her Lap Lovely Never Once Red Rose Some Sometimes Think Wears Where

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I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head

— Edward Fitzgerald

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Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! / That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close!

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