The Shadow Rose

A noisette on my garden path
An ever-swaying shadow throws;
But if I pluck it strolling by,
I pluck the shadow with the rose.

Just near enough my heart you stood
To shadow it,—but was it fair
In him, who plucked and bore you off,
To leave your shadow lingering there?

More poems by Robert Cameron Rogers

A Health at the Ford

Broncho dan halts midway of the stream,
Sucking up the water that goes tugging at his knees;
High noon and dry noon,—to-day it doesn’t seem …
A Sleeping Priestess of Aphrodite

She dreams of Love upon the temple stair,—
About her feet the lithe green lizards play
In all the drowsy, warm, Sicilian air. …
Doubt

Slow, groping giant, whose unsteady limbs
Waver and bend and cannot keep the path,
Thy feet are foul with mire, and thy knees …
The Dancing Faun

Thou dancer of two thousand years,
Thou dancer of to-day,
What silent music fills thine ears, …