My Pretty Rose Tree

William Blake

 A flower was offered to me,
   Such a flower as May never bore;
 But I said "I've a pretty rose tree,"
   And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
 Then I went to my pretty rose tree,
   To tend her by day and by night;
 But my rose turned away with jealousy,
   And her thorns were my only delight.

Next 10 Poems

• William Blake : My Spectre Around Me
• William Blake : Never Seek To Tell Thy Love
• William Blake : New Jerusalem, The
• William Blake : Night
• William Blake : Now Art Has Lost Its Mental Charms
• William Blake : Nurse's Song
• William Blake : Nurses Song ( Experience )
• William Blake : Nurse's Song ( Innocence )
• William Blake : On Another's Sorrow
• William Blake : Piping Down The Valleys Wild

Previous 10 Poems

• William Blake : Mock On, Mock On, Voltaire, Rousseau
• William Blake : Milton: The Sky Is An Immortal Tent Built By The Sons Of Los
• William Blake : Milton: But In The Wine-presses The Human Grapes Sing Not Nor Dance
• William Blake : Milton: And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time
• William Blake : Marriage Of Heaven And Hell, The
• William Blake : Mad Song
• William Blake : Love's Secret
• William Blake : Love And Harmony
• William Blake : London
• William Blake : Little Vagabond, The