 Double Delight (Hybrid Tea) |
'What's
in a name? |
 |
'Yet no,
not words, for they But half can tell love's feeling; Sweet flowers alone can say What passion fears revealing.' -- Thomas Hood (1799 - 1845), The Language of Flowers
|
 Sheila's Perfume (Floribunda) |
Wishing
for roses, I walk through the garden . . .' -- Anna Akhmatova (1888 - 1966) Russian Poet
|
 Sheila's Perfume (Floribunda) |
'That can
thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again.' -- Othello Act V, Scene II, William Shakespeare |
 Sheila's Perfume (Floribunda) |
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness. -- THESEUS A Midsummer Nights Dream William Shakespeare Act I, Scene 1 |
 Maybe there's more food under here? |
Make
No Little Plans; Make
Big Plans; |
 Iceberg (Floribunda) |
'Rose
leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed, And so they thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on...' -- Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Memory" 1824 |
 Iceberg (Floribunda) |
'The red
rose whispers of passion And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove.' But I send you a cream-white rosebud With a flush on its petal tips; For the love that is purest and sweetest Has a kiss of desire on the lips. -- A White Rose John Boyle O'Reilly (1844 - 1890), Irish-born American poet. |
 Big Purple (Hybrid Tea) |
sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer's morn, A flash of dew, a bee or two, A breeze A caper in the trees, And I 'm a rose! - - A Rose, Emily Dickinson |
 Cologne (Grandiflora) |
But
soft, but see, or rather do not see, My fair rose wither: yet look up, behold, That you in pity may dissolve to dew, And wash him fresh again with true-love tears. -- The Queen King Richard II Act V, Scene I William Shakespeare |
 Intrigue (Floribunda) |
'I
dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? Dear rose, thy term is reached, Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached: Bees pass it unimpeached. Dear Rose, thy joy's undimmed, Thy cup is ruby-rimmed, Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed. Dear rose without a thorn, Thy bud's the babe unborn: First streak of a new morn.' - from "Women and Roses" by Robert Browning - 1855 |
 Just Joey (Hybrid Tea) |
'God
gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.' -- James Matthew Barrie (1860 - 1937), Scottish Novelist |
 Barbra Streisand (Hybrid Tea) |
The
roses of Love glad the garden of life, Though nurtur'd 'mid weeds dropping pestilent dew, Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife, Or prunes them for ever, in Love's last adieu! --from: Love's Last Adieu by: George Gordon, Lord Byron |
 Scentimental (Floribunda) |
All
June I bound the rose in sheaves. Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves And strew them where Pauline may pass. She will not turn aside? Alas! Let them lie. Suppose they die? The chance was they might take her eye. --from: One Way Of Love by: Robert Browning |
 Sheila's Perfume (Floribunda) |
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But now the theory goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only knows What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose-- But were always a rose. The Rose Family by: Robert Lee Frost |
 Double Delight (Hybrid Tea) |
Under a lawn, than skies more clear, Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem'd to lie As in a flowery nunnery; They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers Quickened of late by pearly showers; And all, because they were possest But of the heat of Julia's breast, Which, as a warm and moisten'd spring, Gave them their ever-flourishing. --UPON ROSES by: Robert Herrick |
 Bonica (Shrub & Landscape) |
Go, happy
Rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my Love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter'd me. Say, if she's fretful, I have
bands Take thou my blessing thus, and
go |
 Think you're tough? Just take one more step, Bubba... |
It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the time of roses— We pluck'd them as we pass'd! That churlish season never frown'd On early lovers yet: O no—the world was newly crown'd With flowers when first we met! 'Twas twilight, and I bade you go, But still you held me fast; It was the time of roses— We pluck'd them as we pass'd! --Time of Roses by: Thomas Hood |
 I see you, too! |
I went to
gather roses and twine them in a ring, For I would make a posy, a posy for the King. I got an hundred roses, the loveliest there be, From the white rose vine and the pink rose bush and from the red rose tree. But when I took my posy and laid it at His feet I found He had His roses a million times more sweet. There was a scarlet blossom upon each foot and hand, And a great pink rose bloomed from His side for the healing of the land. Now of this fair and awful King there is this marvel told, That He wears a crown of linked thorns instead of one of gold. Where there are thorns are roses, and I saw a line of red, A little wreath of roses around His radiant head. A red rose is His Sacred Heart, a white rose is His face, And His breath has turned the barren world to a rich and flowery place. He is the Rose of Sharon, His gardener am I, And I shall drink His fragrance in Heaven when I die. --Roses by: Joyce Kilmer |
|
|
A Rose,
in tatters on the garden path, Cried out to God and murmured 'gainst His Wrath, Because a sudden wind at twilight's hush Had snapped her stem alone of all the bush. And God, Who hears both sun-dried dust and sun, Had pity, whispering to that luckless one, "Sister, in that thou sayest We did not well -- What voices heardst thou when thy petals fell?" And the Rose answered, "In that evil hour A voice said, `Father, wherefore falls the flower? For lo, the very gossamers are still.' And a voice answered, "Son, by Allah's will!" Then softly as a rain-mist on the sward, Came to the Rose the Answer of the Lord: "Sister, before We smote the dark in twain, Ere yet the stars saw one another plain, Time, Tide, and Space, We bound unto the task That thou shouldst fall, and such an one should ask." Whereat the withered flower, all content, Died as they die whose days are innocent; While he who questioned why the flower fell Caught hold of God and saved his soul from Hell. --The Answer by: Rudyard Kipling |
 Brandenburg Gate (Hybrid Tea) |
Red Rose,
proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: --from: To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time by: William Butler Yeats |
 Sunsprite (Floribunda) |
I asked
my heart to say Some word whose worth my love's devoir might pay Upon my Lady's natal day. Then said my heart to me: `Learn from the rhyme that now shall come to thee What fits thy Love most lovingly.' This gift that learning shows; For, as a rhyme unto its rhyme-twin goes, I send a rose unto a Rose. --To ----, With A Rose by: Sidney Lanier |
