Blue Roses

by Rudyard Kipling (b. 1865)

    Roses red and roses white
    Plucked I for my love's delight.
    She would none of all my posies--
    Bade me gather her blue roses.

    Half the world I wandered through,
    Seeking where such flowers grew.
    Half the world unto my quest
    Answered me with laugh and jest.

    Home I came at wintertide,
    But my silly love had died
    Seeking with her latest breath
    Roses from the arms of Death.

    It may be beyond the grave
    She shall find what she would have.
    Mine was but an idle quest--
    Roses white and red are best!

More poems by Rudyard Kipling

Recessional

God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle-line—
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold …
Danny Deever

“what are the bugles blowin’ for?” said Files-on-Parade.
“To turn you out, to turn you out,” the Color-Sergeant said.
“What makes you look so white, so white?” said Files-on-Parade. …
A Dedication

My new-cut ashlar takes the light
Where crimson-blank the windows flare;
By my own work, before the night, …
“There was a small boy of Quebec”

There was a small boy of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck;
When they said. “Are you friz?” …

All poems by Rudyard Kipling →

Blue Roses

More poems by Rudyard Kipling

Recessional

Danny Deever

A Dedication

“There was a small boy of Quebec”