| Author |
Quotes |
| Bible | Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither. |
| Bidpai | He that plants thorns must never expect to gather roses. |
| Bidpai | There is no gathering the rose without being pricked by the thorns. |
| Maria Brooks | The full-blown rose, mid dewy sweets Most perfect dies. |
| Michael Beverly | Go pretty rose, go to my fair, Go tell her all I fain would dare, Tell her of hope; tell her of spring, Tell her of all I fain would sing, Oh! were I like thee, so fair a thing. |
| Rose Terry Cooke | Till the rose's lips grow pale With her sighs. |
| Rose Terry Cooke | I wish I might a rose-bud grow And thou wouldst cull me from the bower. To place me on that breast of snow Where I should bloom a wintry flower. |
| Thomas Campbell | When love came first to earth, the Spring Spread rose-beds to receive him. |
| Thomas Haynes Bayly | The rose that all are praising Is not the rose for me. |
| Thomas Haynes Bayly | She wore a wreath of roses, The night that first we met. |
| William Cullen Bryant | Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | 'Twas a yellow rose, By that south window of the little house, My cousin Romney gathered with his hand On all my birthdays, for me. save the last, And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough, For roses to stay after. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | O rose, who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet, But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,-- Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | Red as a rose of Harpocrate. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | And thus, what can we do, Poor rose and poet too, Who both antedate our mission In an unprepared season? |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | "For if I wait," said she, "Till time for roses be,-- For the moss-rose and the musk-rose, Maiden-blush and royal-dusk rose,-- "What glory then for me In such a company?-- Roses plenty, roses plenty And one nightingale for twenty?" |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | You smell a rose through a fence, If two should smell it, what matter? |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | A white rosebud for a guerdon. |
| Robert Browning | All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves. |
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