“The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of grief has drained me clean; Still it seems a pity No one saw,—it must have been Very pretty.”
In this poignant poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, the speaker reflects on the fleeting beauty of a rose that bloomed and shattered during a time of great sorrow in their life. The imagery of the rose symbolizes both the transience of life and the unnoticed beauty that can be found even in the midst of despair. The speaker's resignation to their grief is evident in the lines "Grief of grief has drained me clean," highlighting the profound impact of sorrow on their emotional state. Despite their sadness, the speaker laments that no one witnessed the beauty of the rose when it bloomed, suggesting a longing for connection and understanding in their time of need. This poem evokes a sense of melancholy and introspection, urging readers to appreciate the moments of beauty that can be found even in times of darkness.
In this poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, the speaker reflects on the fleeting beauty of a rose that bloomed and withered during a time of profound sadness. Despite the sadness and emptiness that the speaker feels, there is still a sense of admiration for the beauty that went unnoticed by others. This sentiment serves as a reminder that even in times of grief, there can still be moments of beauty and appreciation for the small things in life.
"The first rose on my rose-tree
Budded, bloomed, and shattered,
During sad days when to me
Nothing mattered.
Grief of grief has drained me clean;
Still it seems a pity
No one saw,—it must have been
Very pretty."
This excerpt from the poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay reflects on the beauty and fleeting nature of life, even in the midst of grief.
This poignant poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay captures the fleeting beauty and sorrow of a single rose blooming unnoticed. As you reflect on these verses, consider the following questions:
“I would blossom if I were a rose.”
“Who's that knocking on my grave and will not let me sleep, a year has one”
“When you are corn and roses and at restI shall endure, a dense and sanguine ghostTo haunt the scene where I was happiestTo bend above the thing I loved the most”
“Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would noteIn me a beauty that was never mine,How first you knew me in a book I wrote,How first you loved me for a written line....”
“Pity me that the heart is slow to learnWhat the swift mind beholds at every turn.”
“And all at once the heavy nightFell from my eyes and I could see, --A drenched and dripping apple-tree,A last long line of silver rain,A sky grown clear and blue again.And as I looked a quickening gustOf wind blew up to me and thrustInto my face a miracleOf orchard-breath, and with the smell, --I know not how such things can be! --I breathed my soul back into me.Ah! Up then from the ground sprang IAnd hailed the earth with such a cryAs is not heard save from a manWho has been dead, and lives again.About the trees my arms I wound;Like one gone mad I hugged the ground;I raised my quivering arms on high;I laughed and laughed into the sky”