And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing: O my onely light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom thy tempests fell all night.
George Herbert – The Flower
Beautiful – both the picture and the poem.
Glad you like them
In mid-age we may too.
That is just as well in my case
Beautiful combination of words and image Cherie!
So glad you like it
Great opening line.
I think it gives great pause for thought
Gorgeous! Thank you. Is the rose Masquerade – looks as if it might be … but no matter: what a treat to be reminded of the pleasures of George Herbert.
I am not sure what the rose variety is.
I have only just found the pleasures of George Herbert. This bit of the poem was quoted in a book I am reading called the Morville Hours. I then went on to read a bit more of his poetry.
Lovely, CherryPie; both the photo and the allegory.
Thank You
The poem touched a cord with me when I read it 