by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The rose that drinks the fountain dew
In the pleasant air of noon,
Grows pale and blue with altered hue --
In the gaze of the nightly moon;
For the planet of frost, so cold and bright,
Makes it wan with her borrowed light.
Such is my heart -- roses are fair,
And that at best a withered blossom;
But thy false care did idly wear
Its withered leaves in a faithless bosom;
And fed with love, like air and dew,
Its growth --
Dated 1817 by Mrs. Shelley.
Published 1839, 1st Ed.
Source:The Lyrics and Shorter Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley
Copyright 1907, reprinted 1913
London: J.M. Dent and Sons, Ltd.
New York: E.P. Dutton and Co.